04-18-2018, 09:05 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
He’s in the shade of the first few real-sized trees in the jungle, looking out over the sand, knowing that tide will be low soon. Above him, the parrots are chattering away, half in unintelligible bird-speak and half in words they’ve picked up from the inhabitants, their clever tongues and beaks forming words in a way other birds and animals cannot. He’s faintly surprised to see someone coming, today. The vast majority of the time, no one crosses the ocean between Ischia and the mainland; but that’s slowly changing. Changing because Ischia is no longer mostly dead – they are working hard to make sure it doesn’t go back to being that way, he and his brothers. The duo that crosses are not anyone he recognizes; he doesn’t move immediately, waiting to see what they will do. A brisk walk is enough to bring them across before the water begins to cover the channel again, but they come to a halt on the sands and the mare calls out from there.
He takes that as his cue, and walks forward, intending to leave his chattering companions behind in the trees. A squawk is his only warning before a scrabbling in his mane and then a weight settling on his crest; a familiar inquisitive chirp lets him know that it’s just his little green friend. It’s a small bird, thankfully, who’s taken a particular liking to him, and the bay stallion has become used to his weight riding along. At first he was tentative, careful in his movements, but he’s discovered he can pretty much do anything short of a true gallop without dislodging the bird, so now he just goes about his business even when he’s doing double duty as a bird perch. He catches the very tail end of what the mare is saying to the stallion as he crosses the sand, and it’s enough to tell him that these are diplomats, rather than those seeking a home or planning to make mischief, and so he keeps his posture relaxed as he steps up to them and nods to each.
“Welcome to Ischia,” he offers in a polite drawl, as he sweeps a curious glance over the two of them. The bulky stallion is taller than him and much taller than her, and his best guess is that he’s her escort, given her not-quite-even front legs, and the way she clearly leads the two of them in this. He doesn’t blame Warrick for sending his envoy with an escort – Brennen has not sent anyone out who does not have at least some training, simply because all of his people so far have some inclination towards the fighting arts, but he is sending them in pairs anyway, especially the young and the untried. Rumors travel quickly in Beqanna, and some of the ones he has heard have been dark.
He wonders what sort of rumors this lady has heard, with Tephra being the intended destination of Ischia’s former Queen and her family. Of course members of his own family live at the foot of the volcano as well, but he has perpetually been quite baffled by the twins, and he doesn’t know what Dagny might have said to her Kingdom-mates…if anything…after she dropped her son off in Ischia. Tephra has enough of a hold on his strange twin offspring that they chose to remain there, but not enough for them to raise a child on its shores; it would be a conundrum with any normal couple, but for the twins it’s just another blip on a very bouncy radar. “I’m Brennen. How can I assist you?”
What questions can he answer, or assurances can he make?
He takes that as his cue, and walks forward, intending to leave his chattering companions behind in the trees. A squawk is his only warning before a scrabbling in his mane and then a weight settling on his crest; a familiar inquisitive chirp lets him know that it’s just his little green friend. It’s a small bird, thankfully, who’s taken a particular liking to him, and the bay stallion has become used to his weight riding along. At first he was tentative, careful in his movements, but he’s discovered he can pretty much do anything short of a true gallop without dislodging the bird, so now he just goes about his business even when he’s doing double duty as a bird perch. He catches the very tail end of what the mare is saying to the stallion as he crosses the sand, and it’s enough to tell him that these are diplomats, rather than those seeking a home or planning to make mischief, and so he keeps his posture relaxed as he steps up to them and nods to each.
“Welcome to Ischia,” he offers in a polite drawl, as he sweeps a curious glance over the two of them. The bulky stallion is taller than him and much taller than her, and his best guess is that he’s her escort, given her not-quite-even front legs, and the way she clearly leads the two of them in this. He doesn’t blame Warrick for sending his envoy with an escort – Brennen has not sent anyone out who does not have at least some training, simply because all of his people so far have some inclination towards the fighting arts, but he is sending them in pairs anyway, especially the young and the untried. Rumors travel quickly in Beqanna, and some of the ones he has heard have been dark.
He wonders what sort of rumors this lady has heard, with Tephra being the intended destination of Ischia’s former Queen and her family. Of course members of his own family live at the foot of the volcano as well, but he has perpetually been quite baffled by the twins, and he doesn’t know what Dagny might have said to her Kingdom-mates…if anything…after she dropped her son off in Ischia. Tephra has enough of a hold on his strange twin offspring that they chose to remain there, but not enough for them to raise a child on its shores; it would be a conundrum with any normal couple, but for the twins it’s just another blip on a very bouncy radar. “I’m Brennen. How can I assist you?”
What questions can he answer, or assurances can he make?
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN