Jesper
02-09-2018, 12:06 AM
On this night, a half-moon bathes Beqanna in a soft light. A warm breeze rustles through the foliage adding to the music of a summer's eve. In a remote corner of the nation’s Forest, a young stallion rests within the shelter of a cave. His underside lies against the clay floor while sturdy, yet refined, limbs fold at the knee and hock to draw close to his barrel. A sliver of lunar light slips through the mouth of the den and, creates a shimmering beam that lands mere steps away from the slumbering bronc. Although this light does not touch his obsidian pelt, it does highlight Jesper’s topline with a metallic blue hue.
Jesper sought this particular cave a year or so ago when all of Beqanna seemed to be at each other’s throats. He was much too young to understand what was going on, as he barely knew who he was. In his naïve mind, Jesper thought he could find himself if he took some time for himself. Instead, he found himself alone and, more lost than he could ever remember feeling. He could not help but wish that something might give him a push in the right direction. Just outside the cave, the evergreen boughs flex gently once more as the light wind brushes against them. The soft wind carries a whisper upon it; a voice that Jesper found vaguely familiar.
“Jesper, sweetheart, you cannot do this alone.” The voice is feminine but raspy. The tone is tender and, heartwarming and, still yet, is icy. “Jesper, I know I was not there. I know I left you all alone. Please, trust me now.” The voice fades as though absorbed by an invisible membrane. He could still hear it from behind the barrier, though, it was muffled and muted.
On his hooves now, a pearl-toned unshod extends to support ivory anklet as he takes a step. Charcoal-toned hooves shuffle forwards to follow suit in stride until whiskered muzzle detects a liquid-like film ahead. The sensation is that of a warm mist yet, it does not leave behind any moisture. Jesper proceeds forward slowly, with hesitation. Soon, his tufted lobes detect the ghostly voice with clarity once again. “Follow my lead. Seek Brennen.” All at once, he recognizes the voice. He had only heard it once, a long, long time ago: mom.
Eyelids flutter as orbs adjust to the new scene. Ebony-hued pelt reflects the warm glow of the morning star’s first rays. Standing upon quad pillars, Jesper allows powder blue orbs to take in the lush scene before him. He hardly recognizes this place and, dares not proceed without more information or, permission. Barefoot hooves sink into one of Ischia’s balmy shores as limbs shift anxiously beneath steed. Finally, Jesper decides to put a little faith into what he just experienced. Noble poll lifts tapered snout until dotted forehead is parallel with the celestial dome above. Mandible parts from maxilla to permit a bugle to trumpet from vocal chords, summoning the one named Brennen.