"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
08-09-2018, 11:18 PM (This post was last modified: 08-09-2018, 11:18 PM by Wishbone.)
she’s got jumper cable lips
she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death
In her time under Scorch’s rigorous training, Wishbone had learned a great deal about Beqanna. More specifically, she learned a great deal about Nerine and its Amazonian heritage. The ancient burnt mare had taught her of the Jungle of Old and all its Khaleesi’s — of which she had been a part of — and the old traditions they used to believe in. Although such living magic in Beqanna has faded or been ripped away from its residents, Wishbone found a few remaining individuals with such magic in the present-day Nerine.
One such individual could be the answer to a question Wishbone has been pondering for several weeks now. Wolfbane’s demand for the healing of one of his Loessians brought an immediate response of “How?” to the mahogany mare’s mind, though she never admitted it past the fortress of her mind. Wishbone knows of several healers living on Tephra’s island, including one who is especially good friends with Warrick and Wound. Yet the idea of running back home when this is her first chance to truly use her resources as a queen made her stomach pinch and her lips press into a firm line.
The clatter of her hooves upon ocean-smoothened cave floor brought Wishbone away from her thoughts. She’d heard of the genie living in Nerine, although she’d never personally met the mare, and her curiosity brims in the back of her mind even as she slips into the coolness of the cavern. There is no fear in her steps as Wishbone moves into the shade and blinks away the aftereffects of the sunlight; in fact, an expression of soft informality rests upon her feminine features.
“Djinni?” Wishbone’s honey-whiskey voice echos off the walls of the cavern as she steps deeper inside. Although the dark entrance is narrow at first, the tunnel eventually opens into a clearing where hazy sunlight filters through a secondary entrance, ocean water lapping peacefully at a pebbled shore. Amber eyes glance around the cavern for something, although she isn’t quite sure what the genie looks like. “I need to speak with you, Djinni.”
wishbone
@[Djinni] / @[kahzie] / this is days later than i told you it would be oh well
