[open] wednesday my empty arms were open

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

We never turn out the way we expect to. The pictures children color of how things will be are always one dimensional, lacking the shading of experience, the depth of secrets and hurts that that form the tapestry of real life. We are broken and rebroken from birth, healing to shatter over and over and then be reformed into something stronger, better, twisted from that first perfect thing into something beautiful but never fully understandable. There is always beauty, even if it isn’t apparent, or isn’t what we expected.

She doesn’t have a reason for coming down out of Hyaline. Like all wild things she has a habit of roaming and this time it has taken her beyond her carefully maintained scent markers and down into the forest. She doesn’t follow the river, but delves into the blue-green shadows scented of pine and hardwood without worrying about landmarks of any kind. Her sense of direction is keen and to her knowledge nothing could keep her from finding her way back to Hyaline short of death itself. 

There is no fear in her. Plague has already settled into her body and they are old friends, she has stopped getting worse. Kensa’s liver chestnut pelt has thinned, and her ribs ripple beneath her hide. She’s lost some of her stockiness but isn’t too lean to hold onto her taut curves. Weakness had set in at first, and malaise kept her home. Now she rattles and coughs, tires, but remains indomitable. Anyone else out here is either sick already or not afraid to be and so she did not worry herself about the risk of making someone else ill. 

These little hardenings of her heart could be called a symptom of her infection. Maybe that’s what her lover and friends believe. Kensa tries to keep this new dimension of her personality to herself while simultaneously craving the ballast of being a little fiercer. 

Deep among the cool shadows of the trees she slows herself to a stop, green ferns curled and brushing against her stockinged legs. From among the forest sounds she gathers the movements of another, but doesn’t announce herself or demand that they do so. It is midday, summer, and she is not so easy with her smiles these days. She breathes in, and her heart beats a hungry drumbeat for something she cannot name.

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

OOC: Kensa is prowling I'd like for her to meet up with someone a little darker, my good girl needs a bad boy or girl for a secret lover.

[Clayton]

Clayton

Every Story Has Two Sides

He had spent everyday searching for her since the plague struck, risking the plague itself. His heart ached for her and after all that time, when he finally found her she comes with another stallion. The thought of the fiery stallion made his body itch with anger who the hell does that prick think he is? But then again, perhaps love isn't what he thought it was. If she did not want him, then he would go find someone else too, see how she likes it.

He needed to get out of Hyaline, out of the cove, he needed to get fresh air, to clear his mind from the last interaction with the mare he pictured the rest of his life with. He decides to visit the forest, once again dancing with the devil and facing the plague head on.

As he reaches the forest his mind is still ticking a mile a minute, he barely notices the mare in front of him but the scent of Hyaline forces his head up just in time. He slides to a halt his muzzle nearly brushing her own, maybe it is the scent of Hyaline but she smells lovely. It was almost a shame that he stepped back, giving him a full view of the mare. She looks different, more grown up, though her body is thinner than it should be and he wonders if she too has the plague.

Kensa? He asks her, able to recall there encounter once before. What are you doing out here? He inquires, his eyes scanning the forest, she appears to be alone. Was she clearing her head for some reason as well? He senses frustration from her, it seems the two had more in common after all.

@[Kensa]

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

She does not expect to see anyone she knows out here, though she hasn’t been to Silver Cove since leaving it to return to Hyaline nearly everyone she has ever met is there, protected from the plague. Why would they leave? Choosing that safety over their home had seemed wise, but in her heart of hearts does she not also think herself braver for remaining at home? It's a dark thought, a twisting bramble of a thing that she would not share with anyone, not even Lie. She respects and admires her queens and is thankful there is a place where their people can be safe. But once she was sick,  and the plague had rooted in her body and spirit she began to resent the retreat. She is alive, strong, and Hyaline is the one lover that she will never ever stray from.

These are dark thoughts she will one day regret, as she may regret having walked out into the forest today. Maybe.

Clayton barrels out of the trees and kensa tosses her head in surprise. He stops before her and she recognizes him immediately, breathing him in. He’s likely come from the cove, is probably uninfected. “Clayton.” Her silvery voice is breathy with her surprise, and they study one another with mild confusion. He’s a man now, come into himself in a way he was not the last time she’d seen him. It is much the same with Lie, she thinks of the bands of muscle beneath the cremello coat of the one who waits at home for her. He is beautiful. Clayton too, is beautiful. The green that climbs up his legs and brightens the points of his frame is different from the forest blue-green all around them. Except the ferns--he seems to fade into them. The spirals of his horns rise up over his head through the windswept tangle of his vibrant mane--they fit him better than they had last summer.

“I was just out for a walk. I don’t have anything to fear from roaming out here.” She says by way of admitting she is ill, and challenging him to say he is not afraid. At home, as council member or ambassador she would have never spoken so, she was gentler there, better and sweeter. That was not false, and neither is this.

“What are you doing out here? I would have thought you’d gone to the Cove.” Obviously he has left, if he had ever intended to stay there at all. Almost everyone has chosen that place over home. Who is she to judge, wandering away from her favorite place in the world and into the dark forest. She steps close again, making up the space he’d given her because the energy that brought here here tells her to, and the hard edge in her wants to see if he’ll retreat now that he knows she is sick. She draws his scent off the dark skin of his neck and then walks past as she murmurs. “You smell like you’ve just come from there.” She doesn’t slide along his body like she would with Lie, but she is close enough to feel the radiant heat from his skin, and the she turns back walking off through the green ferns with a swing of her hips that she cannot help.

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

@[Clayton]

[Clayton]

Clayton

Every Story Has Two Sides

Clayton she says his name, mostly shocked that they nearly collided, he was just happy she remembered him. It had been a long time since they had last seen each other, both of them were young and both of them have grown into mature bodies. He can only wonder what she would like like filled out, not so slender from what he suspects to be the plague.

He asks what she is doing out in the forest to which she spins the same question to him, noting she figured he would be at the Cove. He tilts his head slightly, he would like to happily be at the Cove with Warlight, but he could not stand another minute in the Cove knowing Raul was there, knowing that the two had some sort of friendship. He snorts at the thought of the bastard and instead shifts his gaze back to Kensa, clearing his mind of all the negative thoughts.

You smell like you've just come from there she says as she passes him, his head turns to watch her walk off. Perhaps he was so caught up with Warlight to notice the last time they met how pretty she really was. She walks off through the ferns, her hips swaying so effortlessly, his ears perk up with interest and he quickly chases after her.

He catches up to the pretty chestnut, and gently nibbles at her hip as he catches up to her. I had to leave the cove, clear my head. He didn't care to get into the details, the less he thought about the situation the easier it would be to move on. Now then, why are you out here again? He circles the conversation back, curious why she was not in the safety of the Cove

@[Kensa]

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

Clearing his head, huh? She does wonder why, but doesn’t ask. Today she can’t bring herself to care what is going on in the Cove, and she and Clayton aren’t exactly friends. Acquaintances really, though they might have become friends in Hyaline if they’d made time for one another. That long summer before the plague had been full of play, first romances, and missing out on things right under noses.

Clayton nibbles at the point of her hip and Kensa switches her flaxen tail at his dark face. Looking back at him her topaz eyes glitter with amusement but she drops her smile when he asks after her own purpose for being out here once again. Her first answer had been rather coy.  Sighing she walks on, her face thoughtful, really all she is considering is how long she can stop herself from telling the truth. Out here in the vast forest the only ears are those of foreign creatures and a green capped boy who is just familiar enough to make her comfortable. She doesn’t need to be anyone for Clayton, he hardly knew her in brighter days. She doesn’t feel an obligation to smile her pretty smiles or be the gentle, joyful girl she always is at home if she doesn’t feel like it.

Kensa only walks a little further, choosing a mossy clearing where light filters pleasantly down through the tall trees around them. Looks around with a please expression a little wrinkle of worry above her eyes. Stopping she looks at Clayton and exhales like someone who has just say down in confession. “I suppose I’m tired of looking at an empty Hyaline. I never thought I could love a place so much and be so frustrated by it. I’m glad everyone is safe, believe me...but…” Her words ebb off and she just stares at the bay stallion for long moment before a smile breaks across her face, radiant. “You remember what it was like! There was so much ahead of all of us!”

The smiles shrinks slowly until it is just a soft ghost of joy upon her lips. Her life is still beautiful, but all the upheaval has left her in need of something. Clayton may just understand.

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

@[Clayton]

[Clayton]

Clayton

Every Story Has Two Sides

Her flirty display had quickly dropped and he could tell she was here to escape whatever issues she was having back in Hyaline. He had a similar occurrence, and that is what pushed him as far away from his home as possible, oddly enough he found home within Kensa.

He strode beside her as she led them to a mossy opening, light flickered in allowing a perfectly well lit area to rest in. His gaze rested on Kensa, he could see the flicker of worry appear in her eyes, it was odd but being around her made him settle back into his calm nature. I suppose I'm tired of looking at an empty Hyaline she goes on to talk about how the home they had grown up in was now emptied, everyone fled to the Cove.

His eyes twinkled with pain for a brief moment, the thought of Warlight with Raul flicked into his mind and his heart nearly shattered all over again. But he forced a facade, trying to keep all his issues to himself. You remember what it was like! and she was right. A smile tugged at his maw, and perhaps the first real smile since his outting with Will.

He nods his head in response Yes! we were all so young then, like nothing in the world mattered. He wishes that he could go back to the day of the beach party, he was stuck to Will's hip, he didn't even want to attend the party, but he did for her. She had a way of gathering equines, instilling happiness in them, and she did exactly that on that night. Everyone was so happy and excited to be around each other, what he would do to go back to that night.

Unfortunately they were all older now, and with the plague lingering they had to grow up a tad quicker. Each of them highly encouraged to pick up a caste to better the kingdom in there trying times. His gaze shifted to finds Kensa's I know things are hard now, but they will get better Kensa, we will return to Hyaline soon enough. He didn't know this for sure, but he truly believed it, the plague couldn't last forever. He extends his neck allowing his muzzle to gently rest on her cheek, nuzzling her in assurance.

@[Kensa]

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

Kensa smiles, turns into the kindness that Clayton offers, a gentle touch on her cheek that warms her and frays the threads of her melancholy. He had known what she meant and a joy flashes over his face as he recalls those simpler times. Foolish times. To his touch her physical reaction is instinctual, her muzzle running along his until they are cheek to cheek. Her dark lashes flutter down, the intensity that brought her out of Hyaline flaring again. “I’m sure you’re right.” The words are said on an exhale, he wants to comfort her and she wants to return the kindness. There is a simple goodness in his touch that feels more familiar than it should. She doesn’t believe everyone will return to Hyaline, something feels altered, broken by the plague. Whatever might be built up in its place is foreign to her, a long way off. Where once there was only home, now there is the East, the council, a vast unknown and unpredictable life waiting for her.

She just needs a minute in the forest, a moment to steal in order to settle her mind.

“Your turn, Clayton. Why are you really here?” She doesn’t have to speak above a whisper, she hasn’t drawn her muzzle away from his, only shifted a little so that they can lean shoulder against shoulder. Light dapples their dark coats with silver dollars of sun and the sound of their quiet breathing is accompanied by forest rustlings and the chitterings of unseen birds.

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

@[Clayton]

[Clayton]

Clayton

Every Story Has Two Sides

He attempted to ease the ache in the mares heart, and it seems he was able to do just that. A small appears on her maw, as she gently leans her head into his touch, a moment he always wished with Warlight, but seemed perfect right now with Kensa.

She moves her maw perfectly, gliding it down until they were cheek to cheek, I'm sure you're right. She responds, it may not have resolved her fears completely, but hopefully helped her from the dark hole she had fallen into.

He wonders if Kensa had been in the Cove since the Plague, he was not exactly sure who still remained with the Hyaline residents, and who had left. The next thought to trail his mind was if Kensa would stay....no matter the outcome of his relationship with Will Hyaline was still his home, and he could not abandon it.

Your turn Clayton, why are you really here? She asks breaking the silence, a small smile tugs at his lips, he almost got away with it. She adjusts slightly allowing there shoulders to lean into each other, it was odd for him to feel so comfortable with someone he had barely known, but he feels like he has known her forever. A slight breeze would make it generally chilly, but with the warmth of Kensa's body and the beating sunlight he found himself perfectly content.

With a gentle huff he finally responds to her question I...had an outting with a friend he says, carefully choosing his words. More like the love of my life...she didn't even know it. He thinks to himself, the thought of Raul flashes in his mind and his body tenses for a moment before he allows it to relax on Kensa once again.

Kensa, why did it take this long to give each other a moment of our time? He pulls away slightly so that his head could find her gaze, an attempt at altering the conversation.They had lived in the same kingdom for a couple years if not more, yet they only had one interaction. Were they both that distracted in there own lives to take a moment to better know each other before a plague struck down on them.

@[Kensa]

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

He tells her only that he had an outing with a friend and she would have given him a friendly sort of suspicious look if they hadn’t had their faces tucked together so intimately. He is reluctant to say even this, and huffs and tenses and so Kensa lets it go, lets him change the subject because after all he is here to clear his head. Already she is distracted from her struggle to come to terms with all these changes, and finds that she wants to help her bay and viridian friend find that distraction too.

Clayton turns to look Kensa in the face and she does the same, their necks arching out in a heart shape, noses tilted in. His question makes her smile, but the reason for it isn’t clear, her head tilts and a shrug rolls over her inside shoulder. “You tell me, Clay.” She says with a laugh in her voice, reaching out to nip at his muzzle in a good-natured way (no teeth, just a brush of her lips). She couldn’t have missed the way he’d mooned over beautiful Warlight, though she doesn’t bring that up, doesn’t tease him about that only. “The one time we spoke  you couldn’t wait to get away.” She does laugh then, watches his face to see if he remembers her wild flaxen locks and disarming smile as she lay there in the grass interrupting whatever errand he had been on. She remembers him, determination in green, horns too big, a twinge of irritation in his brow that, looking back, was a bit endearing for all it’s grumpiness (grumpiness he had quickly stifled).

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

@[Clayton] Sorry short but this is what she wanted to say.

[Clayton]

He asks why it has taken so long for them to talk like this, they had grown up in the same kingdom. If they hadn't been so caught up in there own worlds, they could have possibly shared a romance that he was so desperately running from.

You tell me Clay she says and as he lets there muzzles brush each other for a few more moments he pulls back with a smile, finding her gaze. She brings up the memory of the one time they had spoken, how quick he was to get away.

He thinks back to that day, the meeting he had set in stone with Will. A day that would never fade from his memory, the day that he earned the scar that draped down his neck. I was lost in my own world I guess. Sorrow and regret fill his face for only a brief moment before he forces a smile once again.

But no matter what happens when we return, lets promise to stay friends Kensa. Regardless of where there relationship went after tonight, he was tired of losing his friends. At the very least these two could stay civil whenever they return to there homes.

@[Kensa] uhhh sorry this took forever. Feel free to wrap up, since so much has changer since this started.