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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [open]  and I'll shiver like I used to
    #1
    Life had been simple. Rise before the sun with the cock's crow and greet the man with a soft whinny when he came to let her out to pasture. Dawn was her favorite time of day, the whole world seemed to be yawning and shaking off the sleep of the night before. The chill air and the mist rising over the pasture always exhilarated her after her warm night's sleep in the barn. She would race down the line of the fence and back along the other side in pure elation, shaking her mane against the chill pricking at her skin. 

    The days passed peacefully. Most spent grazing in her pasture, but sometimes the man would harness her and they would work together in his fields. Some days she would pull a plow, some days it would be a carriage. The work was never difficult and she enjoyed being useful. The man was friendly and gentle, and so she liked him. Occasionally the man would put a seat on her and would ride on her back into a nearby town. She would be tied to a post outside a building larger than her barn with others of her kind for a couple of hours while their men went inside. She and the other horses would catch up while the sounds of laughter and music flowed from the building. She loved the music and would hear it in her mind as she drifted to sleep those nights. 

    The years passed gently and without much change. The man brought a woman to live with him, and soon there were small children living in the house. She enjoyed the little men, they would come to her barn with her man and help brush her and feed her carrots or apples. As they grew, her man would place them on her back and walk her slowly around the pasture. She was happy to do this, despite their hands gripping her mane a little too tightly. They laughed and the man would smile and this made her glad. 

    But some nights, after the man and his children had gone inside, she would feel a profound loneliness. Her man had his own family now while she was all alone. The sounds of laughter and talking would reach her stall and she would notice how awfully quiet the barn was. How had she not noticed before? Still, her life was good - she couldn't be happier, could she?

    And then one morning, after her man had let her out to pasture as he always did, she noticed that a tree had fallen the night before across the fence in a far corner of her field. The entire panel of fencing had fallen with it and lie, useless, on the wet ground. She stood motionless for more than a few minutes - contemplating her options. Eventually, curiosity got the best of her and she decided to just take a quick walk around and return before the man was finished with his daily work. Her skin prickled as she stepped over the fence and into the unknown. The adrenaline of her unexpected bravery washed over her and she whinnied, bucked and took off in a gallop, enjoying the first taste of real freedom she had ever had.

    She saw so much more of the countryside than she had previously. She ventured past other farms, by small towns like the one she had frequented with her man. She went over large hills and through creeks and around ponds. There was so much world out here to see, to smell, to experience... it began to feel a little overwhelming. As the sun began to descend in the sky, she turned and decided that it was best to start her journey back to her pasture. But as she walked, clouds formed overhead and a mist settled around her. The elation of the adventure turned into a sour feeling in her stomach as she realized she could not see any familiar sights, or smell any known scents. Her best bet was to just keep heading in the direction that seemed like it led to home. 

    She walked for what felt like hours, the mist around her so thick that she could see nothing but a few feet in front of her. The sour feeling in her stomach spread into an immense sense of dread as the minutes passed her by. She couldn't help but realize that her man would know of her disappearance by now. The thought made tears well up in her eyes - how could she have been so frivolous when he had always been so kind to her? What if she never made it home? Who would help the man with his farm?

    Exhausted and saddened, she barely noticed the sun rising and burning off the mists around her. When she finally looked up through teary and sleep-filled eyes she was in a place she had no knowledge of, but she could see other horses all around her. There was no sign of danger, and all of the horses seemed to be engaged with one another - none seemed to notice her sudden appearance. Too tired to try to seek one of them out, she decides to graze and try to regain some strength. This place seemed safe enough, perhaps after some rest she would be able to set out again to try to make it back home.
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    #2
    sweet as sugar, hard as ice.
    if you hurt me once, i'll kill you twice.

    Still she is trying to understand this new land, and discover the fascination that the others hold for it. Honestly it is quite confusing and muddles her brain every time she tries to understand it. There is no connection to anything here. Sensing others, sensing the mood of the land… its just not possible. It is as if Beqanna has died, or closed herself off from her children. So far none have the answers she seeks, still the black hag searches. Right now the field is alive, the clusters of recruiters, bullying stallions, and curious foals gather and herd together respectively.

    One in particular has her sneering in distain. Young, powerless, and in need to prove himself he pushes his unwanted attentions onto an unsuspecting female. For a moment the scene is obscenely amusing drawing her thoughts away from the lurking clouds of her mind. She watches as the male pushes and the female bares her teeth, tail lashing, and ears flat to her skull. Now there is a potential, the coyness of her thoughts has her hissing for quiet. In quelling the voice she turns away from the action and begins scanning other groups; until her venom gaze lands on a sole creature who she could swear hadn’t been there before.

    She shakes out her mane, she must be seeing things. Horses don’t just ‘appear’, a voice speaks to you and you’re worried about your sight? The sneer in the voice is unmistakable, her thoughts seem to be taking on a will of their own. She shifts her weight flitting her gaze around to make sure no one was watching her. If she accidently slipped… well voices and seeing things are never a good sign. Normally she would just continue, there isn’t really anything extraordinary about the girl. Nothing that screams fighter, if anything Hestia would believe her to be a herd mare seeking the protection and dependence of a male.

    Still… just to make sure she is real, yea, make sure she is real. Hestia begins her trek from among the hub of bodies and towards the solitary figure. I’m Hestia, she eyes the girl curiously, she seems real at least. What’s your name? The black mare tacks the question on, not wanting to be rude.
    Hestia
    [Image: 345k45w.jpg]
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    #3
    The sweet scent of freshly-harvested hay clings to her still sweaty skin. Mud is thick in her hooves. Her muscles sigh with relief as the man releases her from her equipment she has used during harvesting. The light from the lantern is dim and flicks haphazardly on the walls of the barn as he puts away her tack. She seizes the opportunity to grab a quick drink of her water before he returns. She can see the weariness in his eyes and she knows his dinner and his family are waiting for him inside, but still he takes the time to gently clean the mud from her feet and to brush out her coat. She stands patiently and quietly, giving his hat a little tussle as he is about to leave. He smiles and pats her neck before gathering the lantern and shutting the door to the barn. The light now gone, she quickly nods off to sleep feeling heavy and accomplished.

    The mare's words shock her back to consciousness and she blinks several times in confusion before the the strange events of yesterday come back to her. She is barely able to process what the woman before her has said before she asks of her name. The exchange seems normal, but something about the dark mare causes her unease. Like the land itself, she smells unfamiliar. But additionally there is something in her gaze that causes uncertainty - something a little unpredictable

    She straightens up as much as her exhausted body will allow her (she does have manners after all) and tries to bring some levity back to her expression. It was kind of someone to approach her, looking disheveled and downtrodden as she did. She could put aside the uncertainty for now. "I'm Raewen, it's a pleasure to meet you." A small smile stretches her freckled face but it does not quite reach her eyes. Homesickness floods over her at every breath and this strange land with all of its newness tires her even further. But what could she do? How could she possibly get home from here? She eyes the black mare curiously, wondering how much of a long shot it would be to ask her for help. She gives a small sigh, deciding it could be her best bet. "You wouldn't happen to know of any farms nearby, would you? I seem to have become lost." Saying it out loud made it all the more real. The gravity of her situation struck and she could not hold back the anxious look any longer. The stranger would have to forgive her of it, it could not be helped.

    @[Hestia]
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    #4
    sweet as sugar, hard as ice.
    if you hurt me once, i'll kill you twice.

    She can’t remember the last time that she encountered a horse that wasn’t born of Beqanna. Usually the field is filled with lost yearlings, runaways, or older bored creatures looking for a new start on life. Most of these tend to be looking to escape a devastation, a ugly secret, or a dark past. She doesn’t expect this mare to be one of those few that innocently stumble onto a new world, if anything she is expecting invisibility or some sort of camouflage to be the explanation for her sudden appearance.

    Her emerald gaze sweeps over the creature in front of her. A damp steam rises from her body as the sweat grips her fur to her skin. is it a nervous sweat? If it is, it’s your own doing, the guilty remark echoes on in the back of her mind. Her lips thin in a line as she tries to understand this new comers’ predicament; but nothing comes to mind as an explanation for her behavior. Dropping the critical stare, she takes note of the offered smile, and even though Hestia hardly ever returns a smile she will still offer a nod of her head in acknowledgement to Raewen. Her tail flicks as her hind hoof cocks in her resting stance. She tries to soften her facial muscles; but most likely they remain hard and unyielding in their lack of use.

    The voice seems to be going nowhere; it seems to be a symptom of her coming back from the dead. At least that is her dismissal of it. Though it could easily be her age, the stress could be breaking her psych, maybe its simply that as her long lived eternity nears its end this is her mind coming to grips with that. When the others nervous behavior ramps up and she asks about a farm; a flicker of surprise wafts through her soul most likely reflecting on her face for the moments it takes her to remember how others have come across from other worlds. Her ears quirk, and tail lashes her sides as she thinks for a moment. Raewen, there are no farms here. We are a free people in this land. She holds back the vile disgust as best she can when speaking the word farm. She doesn’t know much about the other worlds these creatures come from and most of what she does know she has forgotten as time has blurred her memory.

    However, farms, people, and saddles were a few things that she could never forget. They were barbaric slavery come to life. She waits for the other mare to soak in her words, to come to grips and understand what it is that Hestia is telling her. Even this cold-hearted hag knows it takes time to understand when your world is being completely dismantled. You are in Beqanna, she says it softly; even if sympathy and comfort are things she has been lacking for a very long time. Hestia finds no reason to startle the creature further.

    Hestia

    @[Raewen]
    [Image: 345k45w.jpg]
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    #5
    The woman's words wash over her like waves. Wave after wave of information that is both unwelcome and foreign. She feels distant from her body - a ghost hovering above and observing herself in slow motion. Each moment her heart crumples and her stomach twists to the point where she feels close to collapsing, only for it to crumple and twist further the next second. Her eyes close from the anguish and a soft cry escapes her lips. Everything she knew was gone.

    Having lost all sense of time she is unsure of how long she stands, motionless and with eyes closed, bracing herself against her harsh new reality. When the world stops spinning around her and she feels a loose connection to her body once more, she opens her eyes. She feels as though she has aged more in the past minute than she had over the past several years. Her expression is tired, uncertain. 

    "I have nothing here... I know no one and I have no place to sleep at night." She speaks to the woman and to herself. Her words are matter-of-fact on the surface but there is a weight to them that betrays the despair and fear that lurks beneath. "Where can I go? Where is safe?" Her eyes look imploringly at Hestia, but really she is simply giving voice to her growing unease. What she wouldn't give to be back at home in her stall.

    @[Hestia]
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