• Logout
  • 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


    Forest eyes -- Etojo
    #1



    She abandons Tephras shores in favor of forest and night. Saedís dances to a symphony of crickets and songbirds – savoring every note of their violins, cellos and violas sprinkled with startdust and nightfall. Saedís, tame-less and boundless, sang as she moved; little songs from her birthland, long since abandoned and forgotten.  She is the balance of perfection and imperfection, of the delicate harmony in chaos. Perhaps her dance was naïve and foolish as she followed the well-worn path that leads to the forest, but Saedís thought nothing of it. She was flighty and aloof – and her wild attentions flitted here and there like butterflies. She loves her home of brimstone and sea-salt, but sometimes she longs for the familiar smell of forest and tree-bough; of the burr´s kiss and the nettle’s embrace. 

    Saedís looks a little like she shouldn´t exist for real; some ghost-mare, pale-skinned and ethereal roving aimlessly through the long grasses of the forest. Oh, she stumbles over wayward roots, and there was dried mud on one knee that served as a reminder that she was of horseflesh and reality; not starlight and dreams. She moves with the fleet grace of starshine and youth – all innocent smiles and laughter. Saedís has a penchant for seeking out the lost souls, those that pine in the solitude of night and haunting memories. It is her curse perhaps, as much as theirs; that she should always try to mend those that are broken.

    Today is no different – and it is this that draws her to the unknown stallion of dust skin and dull eyes. She does not wear her cloak of stars tonight; has not slain her equine skin in favor of the otherworldly. She is mare – dainty and sublime, yes. But still mare. She is thinking, behind the swing and sway of the tangles in her hair, that he looks lonely – and she breathes out a soft, cordial “hello” as she draws nearer. His odd-colored eyes and shawl of leaves has not gone unnoticed – and there is unbridled curiosity in the ocean-depth of her gaze.


    @[Etojo]
    Reply
    #2

    During the last few days and nights, he caught himself thinking more than once why his part of the forest had begun to buzz with a little too much equine activity for his liking. He was an unsociable beast, and whilst that had not always been the case, he’d grown fond of his lonely days and peaceful evenings without the judging or mocking eyes of others.

    He trudged along one of his well-trodden paths, no more than churned wet soil now. Great trees and wildness growing on either side, healthy and miraculously untouched. Somewhere close, and into that wild flowed a stream, where he would soak the mud off his legs and wash away the gooey remnants of his last meal which still clung to the sides of his mouth.

    A hint of starlight peeked through the canopy, the air a chilly crisp and the ambience of the forest whisper quiet. A perfect, lonely night.

    Until it wasn't...

    There was an unexpected motion, a flitter of something caught fleetingly out of the side of his eye, his ear twitching simultaneously to catch an impossibly light thud thud. In an instant his body was tense, his muzzle to the air as his nostrils flared to inhale the scent of whatever it was that was out there. He heard it come closer, he smelt it. And as quick as anything on land, all agile grace and power, Etojo spun himself around with a snarl.

    WHACK

    There was a crack of wood against wood, the sound of tiny branches snapping followed by a sudden burning sensation which sent tingles of pain down the entirety of his neck. AARGGH It was bloody agony. But before he had time to make any sense of it, out of the dark stillness she came at him… Ghostly pale and wraithlike, the dark gloom of night unable to swallow her. But oh boy right now Etojo wished it had. He sucked in a pained and ragged breath, the chill of the air a second punch to his lungs which made him either cough violently or curse. Probably both. Whatever the wheezy guttural sound was, it spoke more plainly than any sentence he could form right now.

    ‘hello’ she says, all blameless and friendly.

    He tried to blink the pain away from his eyes so he could peer down at her properly. His watery orange glare roaming over her. She was soft and delicate where he was hard and ragged. There was a lightness in the way she held herself, whereas he was just sour. But most significant to him, imbued on her fur was a scent he had smelt somewhere before, a scent he was certain he’d once liked. But what was it? For a moment he retreated into himself, forgetting the pain and her intrusion, the look on his angular face one of deep thought. It was the only reason she held him there. The only reason. And as such it wouldn’t come as a surprise to those who knew him to expect anything more from his unrefined mouth. “What do you want?”



    @[Saedìs]
    Reply
    #3


    At first, Saedís had simply approached because he reminded her of something. She cannot quite pinpoint what drew her to him; whether it was that air of loneliness or the haunted look in his eye. But when the stallion turns away from the sky, twigs shattering, a snarl on his lips, acquiescing to Saedís inquisitive stare – she hesitates. Gazing into those eyes, Saedís finds it hard to break through the ice acting as a barricade. This was a creature, she thinks, who had lost the magic of innocence, lost the hope that lingered within his soul.

    Saedís – with kindness in her eyes, fearless passion and star-shine skin is relentless in her optimism. She cannot fathom why anyone would want to be left alone in the darkness. Was she another, she may have turned tail and left – discouraged by his snarl and pain and blatant unfriendliness.

    Such strange creatures these lands hold, Saedís wants to breathe hope into him, to smooth the lines of his strange, strange face, to weave dreams into his hair. He is feral and wild, this son of the forest, with twigs for mane and leaves for skin and she wonders what tragedy has befallen him to make him so untrusting. Saedís is sensitive. It takes her but an instant to recognize the brokenness in his eyes. Saedís has never known heartbreak or betrayal. She has known loss, but never brokenness. She feels the weight of pain, despair, responsibility, reality fall upon her narrow shoulders with the simple phrase he speaks.

    Saedís cannot pretend to not know agony as she stands there. She cannot pretend that she does not realize her own role in what is to happen next, or that she doesn´t want to flee. Saedís cannot deny the presence of the urge, but she lets it wash over her. She lets it pass her by, pressing against it as she steps forward, closing the space between them. Saedís meets his hostility with warmth and ocean-breath because it is all that she knows.

    ”What ill-fate has befallen you, stranger, that has you so untrusting?” Her voice is birdsong and star-glimmer, and she remains unjudging.

    ”I want nothing more than your company” simply, softly. But the smile that graces her lips is unsure, a frightened deer in the headlights.


    @[Etojo]
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)