"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
As soon as keratin soles sink into the gritty terrain of Ischia’s shore, sensitive olfactory sense searches for the mahogany male’s location. Ebony equine remains aware that purple-spotted mare would be close behind him though, he decides to focus on his target. Jesper detects Brennen’s cologne and, quickly adjusts his gait, with a determined intensity, as he tracks the mature steed like a hound. Swift pace carries sleek physique through the dense groundcover, with a lightness only an Arabian-bred equine could possess. Determined strides soon lead ebony stallion to winged bay. Aquamarine gaze softens as he focuses upon his grandsire. Quad pillars slow in motion and, pace settles from a three-beat cadence to a two-beated trot. Poll tosses to direct muzzle skywards before rubbery labrums curve to offer a warm smile. Nose extends to brush wiry whiskers against other male’s and, an exhale of warm air exchanges in greeting. With the pleasantries out of the way, Jesper wastes no time in delivering the details of his and Mosrael’s visit to Sylva.
“I hope things have been smooth on the home front while we were gone. I figured you would want to hear about our venture to Sylva, immediately.” Vocal chords clench here to allow Brennen a chance to process his words and, the ebony equine to catch his breath. In addition, if any urgent reports need to be shared, Jesper drowns out the twittering of the jungle’s feathered friends to listen carefully. Once certain that he has his grandfather’s attention, young male continues. “Mosrael and I were greeted by a young, perlino maiden with navy blue points. She was clearly raised with manners and, an etiquette fit enough to grace royalty. She certainly did not belong and, unfortunately, she had little to offer in the way of Sylvan secrets. Modicum Mortem lurked in the shadows to eavesdrop for a bit and then, emerged only to dismiss us and, escort the young lady away. I believe he called her Lepis. Anyways, I feel we represented Ischia with diplomatic decorum and respect. To be honest, I cannot imagine any Sylvan willingly unveiling their intentions.”
Jesper takes a moment to choose his words carefully as he seeks to pitch his plan with acceptance. “I have given the situation in Sylva quite a bit of thought and, I feel it is in our best interest to infiltrate the land on their terms. I doubt talking pleasantries will gain any more information than sheer force will. I propose – I volunteer to go undercover, a spy if you will, within Morty’s realm. I will have to serve as their prisoner in order to gather anything of use but, I could easily learn of the powers inside the forest and, help to give us the advantage over this evil.” Ceil blue orbs match honey eyes of grandsire as Jesper attempts to gauge male’s subconscious thoughts. He knew there were risks involved. He knew that this was hardly the safest option; however, he also knew this was the best way to learn about the lurking shadows. Onyx stallion attempts to keep his anxiety beneath his taut hide though, the silence following his monologue seems to drag on.
Back upon Ischia, Mosrael lingered in the rear protectively. Jesper walked in silence, his mind tossing over the events of their failed diplomatic venture. He seemed unduly troubled by the events that had taken place and the familiarity shared between him and the clown nosed stallion had not gone unnoticed. Mosrael had experience under her belt and she knew when there was a story lurking just below the surface. There had been many opportunities stretched between them for her to confront him on the matter, but, instead, she opted to remain silent.
Once upon the island, Jesper wasted no time in calling out to her father. The stallion soon appeared overhead, landing before them anxious to hear the fruits of their diplomacy. Only, there was none to offer. Mosrael listened intently as the ebony clad stallion explained the situation in great detail. It was only as he finished that Mos stepped forward and pressed her nose against her father's in an affectionate greeting.
"Father," she whispered softly. "How is mama and my new sister?"
Like many of the autumns that had come and gone before, it was safe to assume that the newly dubbed queen would be with child once again. As always, Mosrael's concern for her mother had followed her to Sylva. She knew the trials of child bearing and the risks of the imminent delivery.
Turning her mind back towards the debrief she decided to fill in any empty spots as well as address Jesper's suggestion.
"I do not believe this new king to be worthy of our trust," she offered bluntly. "He showed no interest in our presence there and only addressed briefly. Jesper, I do not think this mission of yours to be wise. This Mortem king seemed to know you and he would, undoubtedly, know you to be a spy."
Jesper's life was not worth the risk. Though the lavender freckled mare knew very little of this new member, he was family and she was sworn to protect those whose blood she shared.
"As for the filly, Lepis," an unease filled her at the memory of the pearl colored filly. "I do believe her to be some sort of captive. Perhaps we can perform a steal in an attempt to retrieve her?"
The suggestion was one that had been boiling inside of Mosrael since they'd left the autumnal kingdom. Though she would have happily performed the steal then, she knew the decision lied with her father. Without his approval she could not go forth with her plan in solid conscious. Patiently, she awaited his reply...
hold me in this wild, wild world 'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
The sand is warm under his hooves despite the late autumn season as he walks back and forth down his own shoreline. In someone else it would be called pacing, but he refuses to call it that; and anyway he has none of the short, jerky movements one would typically see in someone doing something as anxious as pacing. Every one of Brennen’s motions as he doesn’t pace across his beach is calculated, fluid, and careful. He’s been anxious since returning from Nerine, and he’s no longer sure it was entirely the work of the weird creature at Hestia’s side; he is worried that Mosrael and Jesper aren’t back, and he can only convince himself they’re moving slower because they can’t fly for so long after all.
Finally, though, he hears his grandson’s voice lifted and he turns, taking flight to cover the distance quickly. Brennen needs to assure himself that they are both ok, and he doesn’t need any sort of mask with his family anyway. His amber gaze sweeps over both of them, assessing, prying, but he sees nothing, and begins to relax muscle by muscle even as he returns Jesper’s touch and then settles to listen to what they have to say. Judging by the solemn looks and the way Mosrael lingers protectively behind her nephew (and isn’t that weird, given their respective ages? Whatever, he’s used it it by now), it’s not going to be good.
He nods to the dark stallion’s opening and then listens, though he does murmur, “Lepis…” in surprise, because while he is among the very large number of people who never met Loess’ child queen, he certainly knows her name. There’s a pause, and that’s when his daughter steps closer to offer her own greeting, and he turns to nibble her mane affectionately. “They are quite well, though your mother of course would like to see you. And Khaeli wants to play with her ‘twin’.” He’s caught up in a memory of Khaeli and their other youngest charges playing by the waterfall, and so he is honestly caught by surprise when Jesper presents his suggestion, and he doesn’t have time for an impassive mask, even if he felt the need for one with his grandson and his daughter.
There’s surprise, and pride, and a return of that terribly vulnerability, fear. Mosrael speaks before he can, and he throws her another quick affectionate glance for her concern for the family, even this new member she barely knows. Slowly, he puts his own whirling thoughts into words, coming at them a roundabout way. “Good job, both of you. You watched each other’s backs.” his warm look turns to encompass both of them. “I know neither of you are particularly interested in being diplomats, but I was more concerned about both of you coming home safe, so mission more than accomplished.” Finally, he turns his attention to Jesper’s suggestion.
“My first instinct is to say no,” the bay King says with a sigh, because it is his first instinct to protect him, but decades of experience have tempered that fierce instinct, and that is part of why he knows he is finally ready to lead the whole Brotherhood, not just train them to fight. “But I, too, have a bad feeling about Sylva. I agree if you just go it would be suspicious, but Mortem attempted to steal you while you were gone. If he tries again, we will fail to prevent him from doing so.” Brennen signs, and then hardens his face and his tone - he is Brennen the King, the commander, not Brennen the patriarch. ”But there are conditions. You will come up with a way to report back safely, without going back and forth yourself, because that would endanger you. You will stay the minimum amount of time required, and you will take no unnecessary risks. If it comes down to it, you will escape by whatever means required and we will deal with the fallout afterwards.”
He softens just the slightest bit, because his next words are coming from Brennen the patriarch and grandfather though they are no less deadly serious. ”And you better come back unharmed, or I swear the consequences I can dream up will be a hundred times worse than anything that clown can dish out.” His gaze stays on Jesper for a long moment to make sure every nuance of his message is received before he sighs and turns to Mosrael. ”I’d like to wait until Leilan and Trekori return from Loess, to make sure we have all the facts we can have, but I’m inclined to agree with you. I can’t see Loess handing over their Queen so easily, but it would be easier to discuss it with them if we had her here. There is a chance it was intentional to align themselves with the new King of Sylva.” he supposed they’ll have to wait and see, but nothing about this feels right.
hold me in this wild, wild world and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
Aquamarine gaze studies mahogany male's facade and, notes the shadow that falls over his features. Jesper recognizes the concern furrowed into the crease above his eyes and, the stiff setting of his jaw. Bronze-tipped lobe, nearest to Mosrael, flicks in her direction to catch her words of caution. Gentle sigh escapes nostrils before Brennen's strong voice brings his attention back to his grandsire. Ebony steed listens carefully, silently hoping that he would see the logic behind his suggestion. Brennen speaks of Galilee and, their latest child, which reminds Jesper that he needs to formerly introduce himself to the regal lady. To Brennen, he offers a warm smile and, genuine, "Congratulations."
Jesper accepts the praise by softening his smile. His grandfather's next words, My first instinct is to say no, cause the onyx male to swallow anxiously. As Brennen lays out his plan, onyx male begins to relax and, poll bobs along with complete comprehension. Jesper listens intently to each term while holding a respectfully steady gaze. Inner thoughts attempt to work out the details of the winged male's conditions. Whom could be his liaison? It was not like he had a say in these conditions; however, Jesper would still agree to all of these terms. He did not want to stay any longer than he needed to and, he surely would not allow the clown or, any of his minions, to kill him.
Brennen's threat rang loud and clear and, Jesper closes his long-lashed eyelids as he nods in agreement. "I understand. I appreciate your leeway and trust, grandfather. I am only thinking of the future safety of my brothers and sisters. I will make this work in our favor." Jet-black stallion falls silent as mahogany male suggests they wait to gather more information before making any moves. Jesper nods in consensus and, while waiting patiently for the arrival of Leilan and Trekori, attention shifts to the lush tropical foliage in search of an edible mouthful. While foraging, tufted acoustics remain alert for any additional questions or, topics of conversation.
A discomfort settled over Mosrael as she listened to the conversation held between her father and nephew. Jesper was young, yes, but she sensed an unspoken connection with the red nosed king. The whole interaction had clung to the lavender freckled mare, leaving her with nothing but questions. Sylva's suddenly changed loyalties were worrisome, especially given the inexplicable change in leadership that ravaged the kingdoms.
Jesper's willingness to throw himself into the lion's den was concerning and Mosrael's loyalty to her family urged her to protect him. Looking at him however, she sensed a strength in him and she knew that he was capable of handling the task at hand. His skills of diplomacy far exceeded her own, as proven by the way he handled himself in Sylva. To say she was impressed was an understatement. Still, she would not stop worrying until his return.
"Godspeed, Jesper," she nodded in his direction and took an ominous step toward him. "And know, that if you should need it, you have my support and protection."
Though she knew that he would be out of her reach in Sylva, but she also was achingly aware of how Ischia would await his return.
OOC: I'm so sorry for yet another phone post. But Mos is growing a soft spot for Jesper...
Jesper
