04-28-2018, 04:29 PM
She is not alone for long. Emerging from the draped branches of a willow tree she sees a stallion, milk and honey colored with streaks of blue in his white mane. And a flower, for good measure. Briseis is still new to Beqanna, and so she isn’t sure if the flower was some sort of magic item or if it was a real flower. There were still many mysteries about this land, but at least she was now able to overlook the unnatural colored streaks in his mane, where before she wouldn’t have been able to. She doesn’t have much of a chance to wonder about anything else, because before she realizes it, he is standing before her, beaming and jovial.
It should have put her at ease, but as with most wild things, Briseis is unsure of anything and anyone that was new. She does not step back, but her muscles become taut like springs ready to uncoil, and her weight shifts towards her hindquarters. ”Hello,” she greets him, and her voice comes out meeker than she would have liked. Her several months of solitude have not served her well. Even though she knows the stallion before her likely will bring no harm, she cannot stop the alarm bells from sounding.
Before she is forced to figure out how to continue this conversation, which would surely turn awkward since she has a knack for making every encounter awkward, she sees Kagerus. Almost immediately she relaxes, just as she did in the field. They hardly know each other, but she was the closest thing Briseis has to a familiar face in this entire land. The black-horned mare seems very familiar with the stallion, and her previous question on whether the flowers were real or magic are answered as Kagerus deftly threads another flower into the stallions mane.
A tinge of heat rises to her cheeks at the very idea of her being considered pretty in the way a flower was. Briseis was indeed beautiful in her own way, but she certainly didn’t think so. Not in the way these sparkling, vibrant, winged, and horned creatures of Beqanna were. Thankfully Kagerus quickly eases them into introductions, and she offers the stallion a small but sincere smile. ”Nice to meet you, Svedka. Your flower is lovely,” there is the faintest glimmer of mirth in her almost black eyes, and this is probably the closest Briseis has ever been to making a joke.
”Nothing that I haven’t gotten used to from being in the outlands for so long,” she says in response to Kagerus’ question of her travels. There was a reason that her muscles were so hardened, her mane so tangled and her coat so riddled with scars and debris. ”How long have the two of you lived here?” She directs the question to both of them, slowly beginning to relax in what was possibly her new home, not at all aware of the white mare that observed in the distance.
It should have put her at ease, but as with most wild things, Briseis is unsure of anything and anyone that was new. She does not step back, but her muscles become taut like springs ready to uncoil, and her weight shifts towards her hindquarters. ”Hello,” she greets him, and her voice comes out meeker than she would have liked. Her several months of solitude have not served her well. Even though she knows the stallion before her likely will bring no harm, she cannot stop the alarm bells from sounding.
Before she is forced to figure out how to continue this conversation, which would surely turn awkward since she has a knack for making every encounter awkward, she sees Kagerus. Almost immediately she relaxes, just as she did in the field. They hardly know each other, but she was the closest thing Briseis has to a familiar face in this entire land. The black-horned mare seems very familiar with the stallion, and her previous question on whether the flowers were real or magic are answered as Kagerus deftly threads another flower into the stallions mane.
A tinge of heat rises to her cheeks at the very idea of her being considered pretty in the way a flower was. Briseis was indeed beautiful in her own way, but she certainly didn’t think so. Not in the way these sparkling, vibrant, winged, and horned creatures of Beqanna were. Thankfully Kagerus quickly eases them into introductions, and she offers the stallion a small but sincere smile. ”Nice to meet you, Svedka. Your flower is lovely,” there is the faintest glimmer of mirth in her almost black eyes, and this is probably the closest Briseis has ever been to making a joke.
”Nothing that I haven’t gotten used to from being in the outlands for so long,” she says in response to Kagerus’ question of her travels. There was a reason that her muscles were so hardened, her mane so tangled and her coat so riddled with scars and debris. ”How long have the two of you lived here?” She directs the question to both of them, slowly beginning to relax in what was possibly her new home, not at all aware of the white mare that observed in the distance.
briseis.
you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece