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  • 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


    no tears left to cry || Smoak
    #1
    Nymf
    It was dusk, and the sun was behind her as she flew above the land drifting ever so slightly below the horizon. It felt good to be carried by the strength of her wings once more. Lost among the clouds her mind had quieted and she felt as peace with the world. She’d set off with no direction, leaving the river behind her as she pressed onwards farther away from her home. Trusting in the wind to carry her as she drifted aimlessly. The only mark of the time she’d spent traveling was the changing of the sun across the sky. 
     
    Sudden fatigue washed over her, and she exhaled heavily into the space around her. She knew her time to return was overdue, no doubt they were wondering where she’d slipped off to. 
     
    With a heavy sigh she lowered herself towards the ground, her feet catching her weight in one effortless motion. The ground was soft here, with the snow bordering the path and collecting at the base of the trees that dotted the landscape. The wide-open space was only interrupted by a large lake sat proudly at it’s center. Glancing around her all seemed quiet with hints of winter bursting through a thin layer of snow.
     
    Sprigs of grass littered the path, clinging for life amongst the frost. Quietly she ambled closer, tucking her wings up to create a blanket of warmth upon her back. Nerine was notably warmer; the coastal breeze kept the colder winds at bay. 
     
    It’d been too long since she’d left the safety of Nerine and it felt odd to be parted from the familiar crashing of the waves. The salty scent and coarse touch of seagrass had grown to be a comfort to her. Sand and rocks and caves had become such a normal part of her day to day life that the earth beneath her hooves felt foreign to her. As she walked the solid ground beneath her was strange. She’d grown accustomed to the give of sand with every step. 
     
    The birds sang their song, filling her ears with their pleasantly pitched crooning. It was nice to take a break from the barking of the seabirds. There was no melody to their conversations and it did become admittedly irksome at times. 
     
    However, comforting the familiarity of Nerine had become, Nymf could not distract herself from the aching loneliness that grew inside of her. For the first time in her life she found herself alone. Except for Kiwi, she had no family to call her own. Her whole life she had been surrounded by family and, until the moment it’d been stolen from her, she’d never quite realized how important her dynamic had been. Their love had defined her and molded her into the person she’d become. Now she found herself beginning to change once more and she wasn’t entirely convinced that it was a change that she was enjoying. 
      
    Lowering her head, she nibbled on the stale grass. She yearned for spring and wished for it with every passing day. Spring would bring new life and, with it, new hope.

    teach these broken wings to fly


    @[Smoak]
    Reply
    #2
    Troubling thoughts linger heavily on Smoak's mind today. So heavily, even, that he has trudged from the heart of Hyaline to the Field, nearly all the way across the island, lost in thought until his stomach rumbles with hunger, alerting him to the immeasurable amount of time that had passed. The bone-plated stallion sighs gently as he comes to heel by the lakeside; there are not many out today, the crisp air of early spring still capable of bringing a chill. The thoroughbred allows himself to hope, for the briefest of moments, that the springtime breeze will bring to him that scent of his missing parents, but there is no sign of them.

    His emerald eyes turn to the lake, the water glassy and unperturbed except for the ripple from a gentle breeze. He remains there for some time, staring into the water but never truly seeing it, until there is a rustling in the air that hadn't been there moments before. Smoak pulls himself away from the glistening lake and tilts his head skyward, tousled forelock falling over his forehead haphazardly, to search for the source of the noise. The noise grows louder but is short-lived, falling into silence just as the pegasus comes into view. Her wings are spread wide as her cremello frame coasts closer and closer to the soft earth of the Field.

    Her coat glistens beneath the sun, even more than his own light bay, and Smoak is momentarily distracted from his brooding. He is moving towards her even before he knows what he is doing, his hooves falling steadily against the snow-dusted earth.

    It takes him a minute to reach the winged woman, as she had landed across the lake from him. It appears that she hadn't noticed him when she'd first landed in the middle of the Field, but admittedly, he is not looking or feeling healthy enough to attract much attention, what with his peekaboo ribs and gaunt face. The young stallion comes to a halt a few yards from the painted mare, a loud nicker emanating from his maw to refrain from spooking the woman. "Hello," he says pleasantly, with his head tilted up just slightly. "Is it beautiful from up there?" he inquires as he motions to her feathered wings with his chin. Both his mother and father had been capable of flight; his mother with her wings, and his father with his shifting, but Smoak had not been so lucky.

    Clearing his throat, he turns his bone-armored head away to look at the lake again for a moment. "Have you, by chance, seen a black stallion and a gold pegasus from up there?" he asks thoughtfully as he tries not to let the hope seep into his voice.

    S M O A K
    here's a handshake, soldier, 'cause we both lost the war

    @[Nymf]
    Reply
    #3
    Nymf
     
    It isn’t long before her moment of silence is interrupted by a voice from behind. Craning her neck the blue pits of her eyes easily spotted the bone plated champagne creature. His eyes are distant as he considers her, his words almost lost to the slight wind that buffeted the soft of her ears. Her nearly white mane blew haphazardly about her face, colluding her vision until she casually tossed it aside. Thus far her interactions with the opposite sex had been somewhat tumultuous, maybe not outwardly but her insides never failed to twist and turn under their gazes. She forced a smile upon her face as she pinned her wings neatly against her sides and took a handful of tentative steps towards the stranger.
     
    She considers his question odd, all things considered. They were strangers and, yet, he spoke with a comfort that almost stilled the beating of heart. “Yes,” she nodded with one quick and deliberate movement. “The world looks quite different from above.”
     
    Explaining things had never been her strong point and she flinched at the sound of her strained attempt at conversation. Still, she can’t help but notice the stallion’s gaze upon her wings – almost longingly, as if he was searching for someone buried beneath her plume of feathers.
     
    Peeling his gaze away Nymf waited patiently as he cleared his through and tossed his eyes in the direction of the lake. Her ears pricked towards him as she sensed a hesitance about him. For a moment she recognized something in the way that he watched the ripples spread across the top of the water. Familiar feelings bubbled up from within her and her smile fell off her face as she remembered how it felt to miss someone. That was not a difficult expression to misplace. Her heart ached for him as she related to his plight. Even more so after he finally found the courage to ask his question.
     
    Unfortunately, she did not contain an answer for him.
     
    “I’m sorry,” she offered as she swallowed past the lump of empathy. “I’m afraid I’m new to this land and I haven’t met many people yet…I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of coming across your parents.”
     
    Silently she kicked herself for her garbled attempt at comfort. What could she say to help alleviate his pain? She knew that any of her attempts would fall short from what he so desperately required. Instead, she reached forward and offered a comforting nudge to his shoulder. Retracting she studied his expression, hopeful that he would one day be reunited with the ones he so desperately sought.
     
    “My name is Nymf.”
    teach these broken wings to fly


    @[Smoak]
    Reply
    #4
    The winged woman greets him with a tentative smile, to which the champagne stallion takes no offense ─ he had seen firsthand the terror and pain that stallions could inflict on the mares they interacted with. Her hesitance is only normal, and justified. Ledger rises in his thoughts, an oddly timed and unwelcome memory of the bear-shifter attacking him and his mother after she had ended her relationship with him. Ellyse had done her best to explain it to Smoak later, though in his youth he hadn't cared about the reason, only that the one-eyed stallion had tried to murder both of them.

    He is patient, his face apologetic, as the cremello mare decides that it is safe to approach him. She responds to his inquiry swiftly and deliberately, as if her first few moments of hesitancy had been all of the time she had needed to feel wary of him. The bone-armored thoroughbred cannot blame her, nor is he surprised; his sullen, sunken frame is neither intimidating or impressive, and even without magical traits, the golden mare would be able to handle Smoak with ease.

    Not to mention that anger and aggression are not his two favorite emotions.

    He smiles kindly at her response as she nestles her wings comfortably to her sides. Motioning over his shoulder with his chin, the champagne stallion shrugs slightly and offers a small, tired grin - "My armor doesn't help much with flight," he offers by way of explanation for his question, oddly aware of how his comment offers no real personal information about himself. She doesn't seem offended, though, and he is thankful for this as he shuffles in place and redirects his gaze from her to the lake, the epitome of discomfort before he finally asks her about his parents.

    I'm sorry, she offers him with a voice that sounds tight and Smoak swiftly moves his hazel eyes back to the beautiful winged mare, concerned that his questioning has caused her discomfort. "There is no apology needed," he tells her quickly, with a warm light in his eyes as she reaches for him with a comforting nudge to his bone-plated shoulder. Her scent lingers as she recoils and his nostrils flutter pleasantly at the mixture of woman and sea breeze.

    "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nymf. I'm Smoak," he offers in return, hazel eyes inspecting hers as he searches for a way to continue the conversation, but not in the direction of his parents. "How are you enjoying the island so far, Nymf? Where is your favorite place to spend time?" He worries then that his questions might seem too intrusive for someone he has just met, but Smoak does not have many acquaintances, only family ─ and for him, there is no line between conversation that would be deemed acceptable for close friends and conversation for those he had just met.

    S M O A K
    here's a handshake, soldier, 'cause we both lost the war

    @[Nymf]
    Reply
    #5
    The bone plated stranger listens to her intently, his eyes gentle upon her. For a moment she thought she spotted the flashing of a memory deep within his eyes as he considered her. It was a rare and beautiful thing to stumble upon another untainted by the cruelty of life. She suspected that the stallion before her had seen his fair share of tragedies. Even despite his ragged edges she felt safe before him. Even as her admittance washes over him, he holds himself respectfully. His eyes filling with sadness.
     
    It’s only as her touch dissipates from his shoulder that a smile spreads across the soft of his lips. His name is Smoak, he tells her. An oddly fitting name for the champagne toned stallion. She likes the sound of it. It’s warm and welcoming, but also strong and respectable. The questions that follow his name are ones that she’d heard several times before. Thinking back to her arrival upon Beqanna she marvels to realize that she’d almost been there two years now.
     
    “Beqanna has been very good to me,” she offers. “I like to think that it rescued me at my weakest.”
     
    It still troubled her to remember those dark days. Volcan had been the first to approach and pull her from the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole. Since that moment she’d been indebted to the rough tongued mare and several others had risen up to offer their companionship to her. Although there were still times she felt alone, it was lessened by the relationships she’d made in her two years upon Beqanna.
     
    She said none of that to Smoak. Recalling the day she’d lost her husband and son simultaneously was not a conversation to be had on the first meeting. Her future had felt lost that day, but it’d slowly began to come alive again.


    Nymf
    I Have No Tears Left To Cry


    @[Smoak]
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