"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
Unshod keratin presses into the damp terrain as refined pillars trudge through the dense brush. Ebony stallion carves his own path through the Forest with ease. He heads opposite the track of the rising daystar – nearly due east – towards the Meadow. When fetlocks break through the last line of vines, and into the lush grasses of his destination, Jesper pauses for a moment. Pupils constrict and, gradually, ceil blue gaze adjusts to the brightness that floods this plain. Fur-lined lobes scan the scene before him and, nares flare to filter for any signs of life. Nothing came across his radar and, with a disappointed sigh, male steps forward.
Jade blades tickle undercarriage as steed navigates well into the open space. Fatty crest arches as the warmth of the sun reaches his back. Drawing to a halt once more, noble poll lifts to thrust wide nostrils into the mid-day ceiling. Feeling quite at leisure here, muzzle lowers and extends into the coarse grasses. Long-lashed upper eyelids close instinctually to prevent an accidental injury to vision. Large whuffs of air enter thoracic cavity as limbs push stallion into a march. A sweet aroma fills nasal passages and, it is here that, male circles back to tromp the tall lawn down. Limbs then fold beneath torso and, before long, black bronc is one with the turf. Jesper pushes onto his side and, presses right mandible into the warm earth. A few attempts are made at scratching the itch on his lumbar spine; however, stallion soon resolves to lazily soaking up the heat cast from the sun.
It's not often that the grulla mare leaves the shoreline, but today is an exception. Spring is sliding quickly into summer, and the morning sun warms her mouse grey hide while a playful breeze tugs at the black and white strands of her mane.
Starlin keeps to the shoreline as she travels, braving the channel between the Taiga and the riverlands to keep her trip a bit shorter. She has half a mind to try to the Field, but she veers off at the last moment, heading instead for the Meadow. There's plenty of time to recruit later, Starlin tells herself, she might as well spend a few hours socializing.
Life in Nerine is not quiet, but it is rather focused, and the young piebald mare is ready to relax. It's clear from the muscles that ripple beneath her sleek dun coat that she is no stranger to hard work, but there is a brightness in her blue grey eyes that suggests she is interested in more fanciful things.
That's made more clear as she catches sight of the black stallion rolling about in the grass, clearly trying to scratch an itch. "Need some help there?" asks Starlin as she pauses a few feet away from the now resting stallion, a smile tugging at her dark mouth.
03-30-2018, 03:13 PM (This post was last modified: 03-30-2018, 03:14 PM by Jesper.)
Left side quickly warms beneath the intensity of the late spring daystar. Raven pelt glistens under its heat and, soon, Jesper feels the tender skin behind his elbows exude a light perspiration. Front hooves stretch as far as scapula permits humeri of front limbs to rotate. Long-lashed eyelids squint in an effort to shield light blue orbs from the brightness before they grow heavy with fatigue. Hock-kisser flicks over left stifle before gravity slides it down gaskin and back into a pile on the ground. Stallion feels complete relaxation begin to set it just as flared nares pick-up the perfume of another – a female. Her scent is lightly sweet but, a hint of salt mingles with her femininity.
Eyelids flutter open to allow intense daylight to temporarily blind stallion. Despite his vulnerable state, he does not even lift his head. Her words reach his acoustics and, a soft smile pulls at his own coal-hued lips. He debates how to respond before he finally moves more than just his ribcage. Forelimbs stretch out in front of male before mass shifts to the left. Once he has rolled onto his underside, aquamarine gaze meets the dame’s slate eyes. “Since you offered, yes, please do. It is right…” Neck bends stiffly to poke wire-haired proboscis in the direction of the itch. And, there it sat, teasing him. Just out of reach and, demanding to be sated now that hide stretches tautly across spine. Muzzle jabs helplessly again in its direction despite upper lip stretching as far as hydrated skin could. Plume of tresses snap at the ground in frustration as he realizes that he could not do a single thing about it. Glossy orbs match the mouse gray dame’s gaze once more, pleading that she might follow through.
Starlin can see his eyelids flickering - so he is certainly awake - but it takes him a moment to acknowledge her presence with anything more than an upside-down smile. The grulla mare sidesteps to give him a bit more space to roll over, and meets his exquisite aquamarine gaze. It reminds her of the sea on its clearest day.
She'd not entirely expected him to accept her offer of assistance, but the soft-eyed mare is not a creature to go back on her word. He points out the location of the itch, and she steps forward. With her dark lips shielding her teeth, Starlin does her best to eliminate the itch. Something tugs at a memory, and when she finally pulls away, her cobwebbed brow is wrinkled in concentration.
"You wouldn't happen to be from Sylva, would you?" It's been ages since she's even named the land aloud. Her memories of it are faded with time, but there is no forgetting that perpetual smell of autumn. It lingers in the air even now (though not so strong as when she had pressed her lips against his back), a stark contrast to the spring world that blooms around them.
"I lived there as a child," She adds, and then: "I'm Starlin, by the way."
One might think Jesper is crazy for inviting a complete stranger to touch him in this utterly vulnerable position. He thought, why on earth not? It would be the first time a woman willing made contact. What did he have to lose? Either, the itch would still be there or, it wouldn’t. Light blue gaze watches the grulla mare until she steps forward. Tufted lobes flick back to face rump as he feels her warm breath upon his spine. Taut hide twitches once when her plush upper lip merges into his pelt; however, he soon felt it.
Long-lashed eyelids close gently over glossy pools and, own labrums stretch outwards to return the favor to the invisible equine in front of him. A groan escapes vocal chords, too, as she works her lips back-and-forth. Just like that, the itch melts away and, a warmth sinks in. Lids flutter open as she pulls back and, Jesper catches her silky voice. He listens patiently until dame releases her name. He finds his voice and, speaks in an easy, tone. “Why yes, I do call Sylva home. It is such a tranquil land. What gave me away?”
Poll shakes and tosses tangled web of mane and forelock about before front limbs stretch out before him. Weight rocks onto haunches as Jesper pushes himself into a sitting position by pulling front hooves under his breast. Croup soon rises to wither-height as ebony stallion hauls himself onto all quad limbs. Light blue gaze shifts to meet slate blue orbs of the femme as steed speaks up once again. “So, Miss Starlin… thank you for getting that.” Hock-kisser flicks up over back to lightly brush across the location of now relieved itch. “You may call me Jesper. I detect the hint of salt mingled with your perfume so, you must hail from a coastal land. I have visited Ischia and Loess and, yet, yours is still unfamiliar. Where did you travel from today, Starlin?”
Two seasons she has already spent within the realm of Beqanna, though it scarcely feels it. With so much to observe and discover here, it felt like winter and spring had vanished in the span of a simple intake and expulsion of a breath. Luckily for her, her well-toned legs are used to the constant wandering that she had so incessantly done before. Up until now she had never been quite so certain as to why she had been wandering about almost trance like. Yet now prior habits have been replaced with a foreign desire to become part of something larger and to call somewhere home. Though she very well already knew that Nerine or Ischia had the greatest chance of where she would settle, she ultimately still had that pesky urge to learn all about Beqanna first by meeting different residents and learning about the varying lands. And today was not an exception.
Breckin wades carefully through the belly length strands of pasture; being mindful of any unseen creatures she may flush out with each step. The sun was beating down upon her black spotted back and she reveled in the warmth of it with heavily lidded eyes. Finally she stops in the midst of the meadow as a gentle breeze teases her pale mane, frenzying the blue jay feather that has recently become entangled in its tresses. It’s there that she almost locks her limbs for a well deserved nap, but the unmistakable sound of voices nearby sparks her curiosity. The sound beckons her further into the meadow where the blades of grasses gradually recede to a shorter height.
Before she knows it she quite literally upon the duo and nearly stumbles over the black stallion as he hauls himself upward. Startled by the sudden movement, she comes to an abrupt halt as the stallion finishes his question to the piebald mare. Fleetingly, she is unsure of where to go from here—it’s probably too late to turn tail and scuttle away in embarrassment. With a light cough she clears her throat, “So sorry to interrupt you." Relaxing her tense shoulders, she resigns to offer her name to them also, “I’m Breckin.”
Ceil blue gaze lingers upon the grulla mare until a flash of ivory draws his attention to her side. Raven steed allows himself a moment to focus upon the maiden, whom he could see now holds an alabaster base with ink spots all over. Expression softens as bronze-tipped lobes prick forwards and, whiskered muzzle curves into a welcoming smile. Jesper hears her apology and, in response, he extends his muzzle to shake his skull and nape. Bronze-highlighted tresses fall to both sides of fatty crest when stallion ceases and, allows the Meadow to come back into focus. Chassis relaxes with weight redistributing off right hindlimb and, onto other three pillars. Fetlock of right hind flexes to tip unshod hoof onto toe then, onyx male finds his voice. “There is no need to apologize, Miss Breckin. You did not interrupt anything. What a lovely day for a stroll. Are you headed anywhere in particular?”
@[Breckin]
OOC This is crap, sorry! Just wanted to move things along =)
04-28-2018, 08:56 PM (This post was last modified: 04-28-2018, 08:56 PM by Breckin.)
Though she had already tried to force herself to release the tension in her shoulders and topline, it’s not until she watches a smile grow across the plane of his face that the spotted woman visibly relaxes also. There had been a brief passing of fear that perhaps the pair had not wanted any interruptions and would be all but pleased to have to deal with a fumbling intruder. But that fear is gone as quickly as it had appeared, and she finds herself relaxing into a similar stance as the fellow in front of her.
The smile now on her face is mirrored in the tone of her voice, “It is the loveliest of days to explore. I am happy to her that I am not interrupting.” Her gaze drifts between the gentleman and the grulla lady who has gone quiet; she does not seem to be in the mood to continue with the conversation they were previously having, so Breckin returns her attention back to the stallion.
Quickly her thoughts sweep across what she had been doing previously before her attention had been drawn to the voices in the meadow. “Nowhere in particular today, just trying to take in as much of Beqanna possible. Though I’ve just realized I’ve been doing a lot of travelling between Ischia and Nerine lately however. Are you familiar with either place sir….?” Her voice trails off as she realizes she did not catch his name just yet.
05-04-2018, 05:13 AM (This post was last modified: 05-04-2018, 05:14 AM by Jesper.)
Ebony equine sighs gently as the spotted dame visibly relaxes. Her canvas is unique; one Jesper has never before seen. Aquamarine gaze peers out from under veil of black-and-bronze tresses to meet her chocolate hued irises. Facial features remain soft with gentle smile pulling at dark lips as tufted lobes prick forwards to catch her words. Her tone is sweet, innocent even. Jesper decides he likes her company and, makes a mental note to visit her in the future. He nods his unmarred poll in agreement of her statement. It is indeed a lovely day. She speaks of touring Beqanna and, Jesper begins to feel as though he had not even seen it all yet. I will have to get on that. She names Ischia - which of course is familiar to him - and, Nerine - which he has definitely heard of - though, he cannot claim to know it firsthand.
As the conversation shifts to him, onyx stallion shifts his weight slightly. He maintains a relaxed posture with poll held unimposingly low, lobes alertly pointed at the mare and, rubbery labrums curved softly in a smile. His tone is light and, his voice smooth. "Why yes. Brennen, King of Ischia, is my grandfather. I recently returned home -" It sure felt odd to call the island home when the male still holds such a strong connection to Beqanna's forests; however, even his short amount of time there were beginning to convince him that he belonged alongside his immortal grandsire. Realizing he paused, Jesper quickly finds his words. "I am sorry. I used to call Sylva home and, only just recently, I had to leave. The island is a beautiful escape and, I am beginning to grow quite fond of it. As for Nerine, I have yet to travel to that part of the mainland; however, she is Ischia's sister kingdom so, I imagine I will have reason to visit soon." Jesper catches her voice trailing off as she realizes she did not know how to address him. "You may call me Jesper. Just Jesper, though. I am hardly worthy of a knight's title." His smile widens at his light-hearted joke as he watches to gauge her response.
jesper
carnage x bethanie
devin's∇designs
@[Breckin]
OOC: I hope it is all right that I went ahead and incorporated some of the current situation into thiis timeline. I can always edit it!
Shifting the weight to her other side, Breckin allows the joints of her bones to finally settle into a comfortable stance as she awaits the reponse of the onyx gentleman. His demeanor is warm and inviting and she realizes somewhat shockingly quickly the fellow has putten her at ease. The company she shares with him is pleasantly comfortable, and she is contented to find that the last of her tension has finally subsided to null. Slowly, previously wide eyes begin to droop lazily as her sight drifts lightly across the darkness of his frame; the metallic highlights are an attribute of his that she must have been too startled to notice at first. A humorous grin grows upon her lips as her memory recalls another equine she had encountered with the grace of precious metals upon their tresses.
Raising her head slightly in recognition of the man's words, her brown irises realign with the blues of his own. The maiden's smile had faltered as he continued to answer her question, but the leopard mare quickly regains it with a newfound warmth in understanding of the stallion's situation. "Jesper," she repeats the name he has offered with a slight dip of her head in recognition, sir suits you though, I think. From what I can tell so far, you appear to have all the attributes of a fine knight, especially since you seem to be rather similar to your grandsire. But it's nice to officially have met you."
There was a brief sadness in his eyes when he had paused and it had not gone unnoticed. With a light step, she draws closer to his relaxed form, extending the velvet of her muzzle towards his shoulder. But for the slightest of moments she hesitates mid-reach, still somewhat anxious about offering a relative stranger the briefest of physical contacts. She closes her eyes and reopens them with resolution--at last closing the gap and allowing her muzzle to brush the black of his coat momentarily in a friendly attempt to offer him some comforting. Breckin is proud of herself for overcoming the mental hurtle, but she does not allow herself the pleasure of dwelling on the feeling of accomplisment right now; the gesture had held a purpose and she would see to it that her attention would remain on the kind person in front of her. "I am very sorry to hear of your having to leave Sylva. That must have been incredibly hard to do. Did it have to do with sudden shift in darkness or something else entirely?"
@[Jesper]
OOC: Perfectly fine with me! Also, devin's work is simply gorgeous! <3
Jesper
