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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


    thundrous (break)
    #1
     
    A winter storm brews but it is not like the others. This one has thunder, and in Oleandar’s lifetime, she’s not had many snowstorms that boom. They’ve always been hushed – silent as they blanket everything, perhaps sometimes the whistle of a strong wind. This storm bubbles and cracks, the full moon flashing through fast moving clouds that keep her covered mostly (only letting her light peek through when there is a break in the clouds).

    The daughter’s, almost always together, take shelter in a mammoth ash tree. Usually on they’re on their mother’s trail, though they’ve lost her for the last few days and when that occurs, they normally stay put and camp while they wait and their mother returns. It’s more of a herd structure that does not get broken by time or distance, less to do with the dependence they had when they were young. 

    Wrena, the sleek, red-bay with scaled reptilian wings and eyes of fiery embers lights a fire and bids her sister adeau. She mentions something about finding something to eat, or do, or light afire or something, Oleandar hardly listens but flicks her ear in a quiet goodbye anyway. This is an often thing, Wrena leaving for a few hours and returning, whether it’s scandalous or something monotonous Oleandar doesn’t speculate. A small fire burns warm in the center of the tree they’re in and for some reason snow does not fall on its flattened middle. It’s ancient and enormous branches spread like a palm and seem to weave a sort of roof above, making a perfect dwelling for large flying creatures. It is a shelter that gets used often by the daughters; there are usually big porcelain basins of crystalline water, fruits for snacking, mosses for bedding and a few other primitive amenities. The small fire pit, Olea thinks, is most delightful. Being lepiddoptera keeps her fur sleek and short, so the cold gets to her warm blood much easier than normal horses – or even Wrena, the dragon-girl with fire in her veins.

    Olea feeds the flames with a few more sticks, the fire making the innards of the tree’s woven branches glow many stories above the ground. The snow lightens to allow some to see if they’re passing under, but still the thunder rumbles above, cracking loudly every fifteen minutes or so. Snow is gathering now, and by dawn it will be a few feet, Olea predicts.


    Oleandar
    the moth-child of elysium & city


    apologies for babbling XD
    <3 @[Break]
    Reply
    #2
    I ain't got no future or family tree but
    I know what a prince and lover ought to be

    Break was a fan enough of winter, loved it for the cozy quiet of snowfall, the way it blanketed the earth and turned everything into this hushed wonderland, made it all look clean and new and untouched. Like every step was a discovery. Snowstorms raged away, and then in the aftermath it was like a fresh new world all around. That said, during the raging part, it was a smart idea to find shelter and not get oh say buried beneath a foot of snow. So he shook to dislodge a little of what had fallen already and made for the trees, where at least there were tons of branches to break the fall of snow some and catch bits of it.

    Which was all well and good, but there was something different about this storm, wasn’t there? Lightning flashed overhead and thunder rolled, startling the stallion into an undignified yelp, a tree nearby shattering into a shower of stars that lit the air and melted the snow around it. If he could’ve managed it beneath the bold blue and purple of his face, he would’ve blushed. Alas, as it was, he just cleared his throat and ducked his head and watched the bits of starlight where the tree used to be twinkle and shivere and slowly fade into oblivion. His skin twitched as if to dislodge a fly, and he glanced around. Well that was embarrassing. Good thing there was no one around to see it, right?

    He huffed and shook himself off again, though now there was no snow clinging to the blue and purple of his coat. Pulled himself together, took a deep breath, and walked on. And the next time thunder crashed overhead, he was ready for it. Totally got this. No big deal. Still, made him happy when he found a niiice sprawling old tree to curl up beneath. Well. Maybe not the safest place to be in a storm, but it was a big ol’ beast of a tree, and if it’d survived up to this point probably it’d weather at least one more storm, right? Right. So he crept under the fall of branches, and--

    “Oh! Hello there! Uhhh…” Company was the last thing he’d been expecting, particularly such unique and delightful company. But slightly more urgent than a lovely lady was the presence of fire. Fire the strange moth-like beauty didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about…? “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there seems to be a small fire.” Moths were drawn to flame, maybe...maybe she was like, entranced by the flickering firelight or...was asking that offensive? Like species-ist, or...something? He crept closer, a wary eye on the fire, looking to stomp it out--oh. Right, okay, that looked...odd and contained and maybe deliberate. “Are you very brave, or just very accustomed to things burning nearby?”

    if you want to call me baby, just go ahead now
    Reply
    #3

    (So my first post was so terrible it didn’t really explain where my A.D.D. mind was going there XD but she’s UP in a tree. I’ll make it flow because I totally didn’t proof read my nonsense, I just let it fall out and then apparently expected you to decipher ;p Sorry, boo. I’ll fix it’s nonsense with this one, hopefully. I’m picturing something like this tree, but no structures or anything, and in winter.)

    The snow is so fresh and the tumbling flakes so deafening between thunder blows, she cannot hear his approach below. She is in the top of the pitted ash, fire aglow, simply staying warm when she hears a voice call out. The stranger’s greeting is barely audible when she peers down at him through the branches. Her odd silhouette probably betraying the oddness of her form – she’s not sure what to do and doesn’t think about much beyond that the stranger might need a little help…it’s cold?

    The arbor’s inner trunk is pleasantly hollowed for travel up and down when one cannot fly, or in her case, cannot wet their delicate wings. She emerges through an arch at the base of the tree’s trunk, just beside where the stranger stands, questioning the glow above. Her ears bend back with thought, and a smile glimmers across her pale lips. “Fire is fine.” She blinks with her big olive green eyes, flipping her ears forward curiously, stepping forward out of the tree’s opening. The canopy of oddly woven branches spread out for hundreds of feet in a protected radius, keeping the snow from gathering beneath it in great quantities.

    Olea shivers as she steps out a few more steps, looking the stranger over politely in case he’s in obvious distress. The chilly air bites her golden skin making her inhale sharply and clench her papery wings against her body. A crack of thunder booms above and then trails off, the sounds moving south and soon the snows will let up, she predicts. She doesn’t stare at him, but instead out to the dark oblivion of a stormy night, waiting for something to break the silence or the cold.


    Oleandar
    the moth-child of elysium & city


    @[Break]
    Reply
    #4
    I ain't got no future or family tree but
    I know what a prince and lover ought to be

    ((loooool oh, that explains some wording things I was puzzled by. XD Sorry. Will totally roll with that though, nbd. Also I just like, actually looked up his trait and was so using it wrong, sooo. Ediiiits. He’s supposed to shatter other things, not himself. Notedddd.))

    “Fire is fine.” Well, he couldn’t argue that. Obviously she was in no danger, even seemed a bit amused by his concern. Well good! That meant it was pretty much as safe as fire could be, right? And unlike blizzards, fire was waaaarm. Which with her interesting variation on equine anatomy would probably come in handyyy. At least he suspected mothlike creatures were not super fans of cold. Right, thus the fire.

    “Cool, nice, that’s good then.” Granted, most people found fire at least a little worrisome, but this was Beqanna. Who was he to judge, or to say something was odd or should be scary? Odds were your average person thought his uhhh...gift was odd and maybe a little scary too. So. Cool, she liked fire. No big deal.

    “Uhhh. In that case, nice place you’ve got there. D’you mind if I hang out for a bit? Snow’s comin’ down pretty hard, and I’m looking for a cozy place to hole up ‘til this storm mellows out some.” He peeked around her through the arch she’d come out of, trying to see into the tree’s trunk to gauge if there was perhaps enough room for one more. Seemed likely enough given the enormity of the tree, but still. Best to ask before intruding, and who knew? Maybe she didn’t want company. Not everybody was the socialest of butterflies.

    Er.
    Moths?
    Shit, did he do it again?

    Anyhowwwwww. He grinned his winningest grin and took a hopeful step closer. “Plus, the company might be nice. Cozy conversation to while away the storm? Probably won’t last too terribly much longer, but it’d still be nice to have someone to talk to while the weather’s--” Another roll of thunder interrupted him, and he cast a rueful glance up at the sky. “...doing that?”

    if you want to call me baby, just go ahead now
    Reply
    #5

    Fine is always fine. Funny that the moth-girl’s mother delivered one daughter of scaled wings and breath of fire and another of paper moon moth wings and hyper-senses. Her sister Wrena’s consistent obsession setting things ablaze has made Olea rather callous to the dangers of fire. When their mother would wander, and often she did for weeks, they would be alone together and Olea naturally in charge. Wrena was always leaving a trail of charred remains (both earthen and at times, animals). Olea would follow her, horrified, barking for her to stop – but the dragon sister’s desires for destruction could never be stopped and so the moth sister is accustomed to ignoring it now. These days she’s a bit more controlled with her fires and has the courtesy to leave her paper-winged sibling out of her fiery endeavors.

    In the darkness, what is not lit by the flickering orange light from the tree above them, the wind whistles. His response makes her smile a little bit, bending her tufted antennae ear to him beside her. His request is easily obliged as she was about to ask if he was seeking shelter, she’s glad she didn’t have to ask. She shakes the snow from her and nods as she turns to walk back into the archway into the tree’s trunk. Its center hollowed and a thin shelf, like an inner cliffside, spirals up its edge. It offers just enough for you to walk up to the top.

    The tree’s palm is a flat-ish space with various things piled on the edges. Warmth emanates from the small licking flames and red coals sitting in the center. The wind still gently blows through the enormous skeletal branches, but its biting gusts are broken up and weakened so it is much better than being outside of the delightful arboreal shelter. “It will last the night.” She blinks her pale green eyes at him, large and observant, letting his attempted charm fly by without notice. She isn’t a dullard, but she certainly has no knowledge of what the hell flirting is, or how to go about it, or how to respond or even detect it. She barely has any acceptable social skills.


    Oleandar
    the moth-child of elysium & city


    @[Break] sorry for the horrendous wait <3
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