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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


    could i use you as a makeshift gauge - north
    #1
    Ivar yawns, displaying several sets of too-sharp teeth in a jaw that opens far wider than it should. Yet as it closes, he is impossibly handsome anyway, a product of rapidly evolving biology and a healthy dose of magic.

    The kelpie has been forced to wait out a storm on the mainland, and he is roused by a clap of thunder that suggest a second late summer thunderstorm might be on the way. He'd fallen asleep in a windblown copse of trees, and he picks his way through the damp forest in search of the sea.

    He has not quite reached it when he hears the snap of a branch that suggests someone else is moving nearby. The piebald horse freezes, though he knows it is unlikely that he will not be seen. He is brilliantly blue and gold after all, clearly out of place here in these new-growth woods. His ears flick forward curiously, pale nostrils flaring in an attempt to catch the scent of whomever - whatever - is out in the shadows.

    Evening is quickly approaching, and the sun is mostly set behind the distant western mountains. There is a sharp pang in his belly. Ivar glances to the side, where lush summer grass grows aplenty, but he is not in the mood for grazing. The sea is distant still and he has never been fond of small game, and the hunger makes him irritable.

    a @[Kahea] horse :|
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    #2
    Nothing unusual
    nothing strange
    close to nothing at all

    - - - -

    The scent of the ocean lingers in her hair (sand and brine) and the salty taste of it clings to her lips. Its a wonder her veins aren't full of salt water, although for all she knows they could be-- she's never bled before. She thinks about it sometimes, wonders if maybe she should open herself up just to see if she's red on the inside.

    She tells herself that is a foolish thing to want (what's it matter anyway, if you bleed blue-grey?) but that doesn't mean she stops thinking about it. There is simply too much time in the day to not think foolish thoughts.

    Speaking of foolishness, she's lost (again) although not terribly concerned about it (, again).

    "Is Ischia this way?" she turns her head to look at the stranger as she steps past him, boldly walking the wrong way. If she is surprised by his bright coloring she keeps her face from showing it-- but she can't control her eyes and the way they crinkle at the edges in surprised pleasure.

    She stops in her tracks, telling herself it is just for a moment

    (She's always talking to herself, reminding herself to do or not do anything. She's always ignoring herself, too)

    and smiles, the barest of smiles. Just then lightning strikes in the distance and for a moment she looks wild, wild wild, like a child of the storm and not at all the plain, aging woman she pictures herself to be. "I'm North." She says this decisively, as though she's just made up her mind about something. She is the sort of person who does not change her mind, once it's been made.

    - - - - -

    N O R T H

    Oof -bones creak- sorry I am slow!
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    #3
    The brown horse is a stranger, as are most residents of the mainland. Ivar takes a moment - a long, perhaps too-long moment - to look her over, meeting her gaze only as the lightning illuminates her narrow face. He seems to be pleased with his findings (if the smile on his pale mouth is any indicator), and he gives his own name with the slightest dip of his sapphire head.

    "I'm Ivar."

    The wind brings with it the taste of the sea, but the kelpie finds it comes not only from the not-so-distant shore but also from the flaxen-haired mare. His head tilts, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibility as he stares - this time surely just a little too hard - at her. Her name had not been familiar, but Ivar is wary of hunting on the mainland. He'd almost taken a queen, after all, and the manhunt that would have followed would surely have routed him from his home.

    Caution, he reminds himself much as she does - though the message is far different.

    "I'm going to Ischia," he tells her, "I live there," and there is finally some humor in his golden eyes. They are going opposite ways, and he is clearly the one who knows the way. "I'm guessing you're new to Beqanna?" Or at least not well travelled, he supposes.

    Though as he traces the faint silver hairs along her face and the dip of her mahogany back he wonders if perhaps the Beqanna she knows is the Beqanna of before. He'd been born only a few years after the Reckoning, after all, and knows there are horses that have known a world very different from his own.

    no worries! i am just happy to write with you again <3
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    #4

    North feels an affinity with the stranger. Loneliness does that, makes you grasp for whatever connection you can find.

    (Are you wild like me?)

    But although she is lonely she is proud, and when he looks at her that second time, almost hungry, she draws her head up and stares back. It does not matter that he towers over her small frame, the little mare has a fierce look in her eyes no matter who she's looking at.

    She thinks she knows hunger. She does not know hunger.

    Not like he does.

    The storm nearby and the look in his eyes have her feeling jittery. She wants to run, not from him but with him, until they're soaked in rain and sweat, until they reach the sea. She wants to do something stupid, and he looks like he could help with that.

    (She can be the cutting edge of the knife, when she wants.)

    "I'm the opposite actually. Of new." We don't use the word old here. Her smile is a brief moon-sliver. "Will you take me there?" It doesn't much matter if he says no-- she'll follow him anyway, because she's lost and hasn't a clue what else to do.

    N O R T H

    <3
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