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    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


    Long May She Reign ||Valdis/Ivar/Any ||
    #1



    Mary
    As promised the visibly pregnant dapple queen had found the blue and white painted mare for the trip to Ischia. Together the pair made a rather silent journey to Ischia, saving her energy for the swim to the island kingdom. 

    Aside from the ocean that seperated them, the two kingdoms were not awfully far apart. As they reached the shore on the sylvan side she glances to Valdis and with a nod she steps into the water. It was freezing, and now that she thinks of it, the visit may have been better in the spring rather than the winter. 

    The swim seemed to last forever, quiet possibly because it was freezing, but eventually it came to an end. The pair had reached the island kingdom and with a smug grin she shakes out her soaking wet pelt, and oddly enough the climate on the island was opposite of Sylva. It offered warmth from the freezing water, a quick relief. 

    She turns scand the horizon and with no visible equines she allows a whinny to echo throughout. She stands at the shore line, cocking her hind leg as she awaits the arrival of someone. Her head turns to Valdis with a shallow smile let's see how long they make us wait  
    Long May She Reign


    @[Valdis] @[Ivar]




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    #2
    The slow scrape of sand against the kelpie's back keeps him awake, but it is a near thing. Yesterday's yespertine activities had lasted well into the night, and Ivar is tired. An unfamiliar scent in the water fully rouses him, and the piebald creature rises to a vertical position with a single surge of his finned appendages. They are coming from the mainland, he finds, and the scaled stallion rises to the surface. His head is just another whitecap among thousands. A grey head in the water for sure, and Ivar knows that Ischia is once again to be visited.

    He understands why they come. They want stability, conformation that their power is unquestionable and their rank in the world is perpetually increasing - or at the very least, remaining permanent.

    There had been a time when Ivar cared about such things, the memory of it emerges as he steps onto the beach. Transformed in the shallows, the kelpie looks nearly normal - if jewel-toned scales and a striking face were normal. Moving to the spot on the beach where he knows the current will take a swimmer, Ivar finds a place to wait in the shadows of the palms.

    Just as he recognizes the dappled mare as Mary, he realizes she is not alone. His golden gaze narrows, taking in the unfamiliar blue and white mare. Their coloring is not so dissimilar, but he does not recognize her as one of his. Still, something about her strikes a chord of memory, so rather than misstep he focuses on the pregnant Mary. She is the queen, after all, and he very much doubts that the pale mare beside her is Sinner.

    "Welcome to Ischia, ladies." He says, stepping from the shadows to greet them. He tone is charming, his smile equally and effortlessly slow. "How can I help you today?"

    @[Mary]
    @[Valdis]
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    #3
    And in the darkened underpass I thought,
    "Oh Satan, my chance has come at last!"


    A fleeting thought of cruelty passes like a summer gale across Valdis’ mind. In a quiet trek to the shore, she and Mary took pause with their eyes focused intently on the island ahead. While the Sylvan queen submerged herself to swim, however, Valdis took flight.

    Far beyond hearing, climbing to reach the low-sitting clouds, the girl laughs to herself. The flight is effortless, much of her energy harbored when she glides with a single, occasional beat of her wings to remain afloat. And below, struggling to swim against the current, is a pregnant Queen. Something in her churns with enjoyment seeing the woman paddle and exerting herself with dangers lurking beneath the tide. Valdis occasionally swoops down in muted assurance before breezily gaining altitude again.

    As the shoreline approaches, however, she swiftly descends after having already noted the kelpie near the water’s surface.

    Valdis waits patiently with the waves lapping against her pasterns, watching for Mary as the current grabs onto her and carries her to the beach. A sarcastic comment comes to mind, but she purses her lips shut and merely nods before turning her head to acknowledge the stallion that joins them. ”Hello,” her voice is curt, her sapphire eyes glimmering with fascination as they rove across his coat prior to leveling on his eyes. ”I’m Valdis, from Sylva.” Her body is drenched with the scent of the autumnal territory, but she still includes it in her personal introduction.

    Unfortunately, Valdis hasn’t established a strong enough relationship with her father to know that she is staring into the eyes of his childhood best friend. Her interest in Ivar lies solely in what he is and the land he has claimed his own.


    VALDIS
    But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask.
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    #4
    Juice heard the call - join your king or queen on a diplomatic visit to a neighbor; open to any one looking to prove themself. Well, that has my name written all over it, thought the young bay splash. He lurks in the shadows of the autumnal forest, watching for his chance. He catches sight of the light green mare and the sky blue tovero with gold tresses making their way towards the western border.

    Having explored his trait more, Juice elects to travel in liquid form. He does not emerge from the shadows until after both of them had gotten ahead by several horse lengths. As the canopy-filtered light meets the shiny surface of his puddle, it reflects off of him. Juice begins to roll forward after the two females. The puddle moves over the terrain with ease as the colt has learned when to expend energy to combat inclines versus when to allow gravity to pull him along passively. All-in-all, his liquid form is quickly becoming his preferred form. He can move in silence and, remain virtually invisible.

    As he nears the western coast, he notes the change in soil: the color, the fertility, the saturation, etc. Then, the solid ground meets a body of water. For a moment, Juice stops moving forward. How would his liquid state behave in water? Would he sink or float? Would he stay whole or, be stretched out by the surrounding particles? He sighs before tentatively, the young male inches forward. The cool liquid meets his fluid state with a sensation much like that of his fur-covered limbs entering the pool. The temperature feels just as cold, as if his puddle form is able to maintain body heat. The feeling is less wet against his form, which is to be expected since he is already a liquid. The ripples caused by the other horses have less of an impact against his form because there is less surface area to bounce off of.

    Before he knows it, Juice is on the other side of the shore. He runs into it with a harsh slap, much like the surrounding waters which crash aggressively. At this point, the puddle form of the bay splash boy must decide if he should stay as such or, if he should show himself. At this close proximity, the chances are high that someone would note how different his liquid state is compared to the waters behind them. So, Juice slides onto solid ground before hooves appear. Limbs reappear, then haunches, ribs, and shoulders flow into slender neck and refined head. A few strides away, to his right, stands his Queen. And, alongside her, the light blue tovero with a golden mane and tail. In front of them, stands a scaly, blue and gold stallion with dreadlocks. Sensing that all of their gazes - the brown, the blue and the brown with gold flecks - are upon him, Juice offers his name, just as the ladies did. "I am Juice, of Sylva."

    @[Mary] @[Ivar] @[Valdis]
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    #5
    It was not long before the smug blue and gold stallion appears. As charming as last, and he gives a greeting to both Mary and Valdis, quickly inquiring the reason for there visit.

    Her eyes shift to Valdis who introduces herself, the scent of Hyaline has nearly been scrubbed from her pelt. It was still odd to be around the girl, for Mary has no idea the reasoning behind Sinner bringing her to Sylva. None the less she has proven worthy of the forest kingdom they share, and of course, she trusts her friend and king.

    Her eyes slowly shift to Juice, a bay splash stag whom her own brother accepted into Sylva. It had been some time since she had seen him, and he must have heard the announcement to visit kingdoms and decided to tag along. He was a little behind Valdis and Mary, but the dapple king noticed another presence join in shortly after Valdis started speaking.

    Mary gives a quick nod to Juice, acknowledgement for his visit, before turning back to Ivar. Ivar, it has been a little while she notes, the last time they spoke was in the forest when the young roan found out who her father was, and the first time that Ivar sparked her interest.

    I come to check out this fantastic kingdom of yours, her eyes scan the horizon or so you claim. With a grin her gaze settles back on Ivar I have just come to show presence of Sylva, and to see how Ischia holds up to the plague. Her tone was kind, she did not seek an alliance, if anything, she wanted to see Ischia, or maybe it was Ivar who caught her attention.

    @[Ivar]




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    #6
    Ivar's attention is on the mare introducing herself, but his attention last only a moment. Something is happening down the beach a ways - the water is solidifying into a horse in a manner that is far from natural. The horse that it becomes introduces himself as Juice - another member of the diplomatic envoy, it seems - but the sapphire kelpie is clearly far less pleased at the bay's arrival than he had been at Mary and Valdis. He glances at the splash stallion for a moment before back at Mary, wondering if it was her pregnancy or her sense of self-importance that required such a large party.

    He doesn't begrudge her either, of course .Pregnancy is a dangerous thing and she is a young leader, still settling into her power. Still, he'd have preferred she not bring along someone with such an obvious inclination toward the unnatural.

    Mary takes care of the introductions, teasing and lighthearted, though Ivar's gaze cannot help but flick toward the blue and white mare from time to time, the one who seems far less interested in chatter.

    "The Plague hasn't spared Ischia any more than it has the rest of the old lands." He has heard rumors that there other new lands are as immune to the illness as it seems the Island Resort it, but Ivar has never been especially good at sharing anything - even knowledge. The diplomats from the East had made it celar that Silver Cove was the heart of the Sanctuary, leaving Ivar to fill in the gap that the Cove must be their safeland.

    Where is it in the South, he wonders?

    "I'd be happy to show you the island," He says to the assembled horses, "I find it less interesting than the sea, but there are some nice waterfalls." There are a great many nice things, really, but Ivar invariably prefers the sea. He gestures toward a path that leads inland. "Perhaps you can tell me more about how the South has fared while we walk?"

    @[Mary]
    @[Valdis]
    @[Juice]
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    #7

    how come I never got used to the feeling of sleeping in a cage?
    too long driving, too damn hungry; a tied-up hound but nothing stays

    The arrival of Juice comes as a surprise, bur Valdis maintains a composure to mask the unexpected increase of their entourage. It’s almost suspicious to arrive as a trio while Ivar remains alone to represent his island. It would almost be tempting to slip away and back into Sylva’s forest, but her ambition roots her to the shoreline. Water continues to lap at her coronets, just barely within the tide’s grasp as her sapphire eyes slip across their faces, dwelling a moment longer on Ivar’s.

    ”A tour sounds lovely,” she forces herself to say as a diplomatic grin lifts the corners of her mouth. It isn’t so warm and amiable as mother’s as it borders along the coy grin that father often did (but she, of course, wouldn’t know that). Still in the process of refinement, Valdis struggles to entirely falsify her expressions. She is more to the point and less interested in time-consuming small talk. They are here to discuss matters, and then they are to return home where Mary may finally deliver her position-sealing child.

    With a deep lungful of salty air, Valdis crosses the beach and follows the trail that Ivar guides them down, nodding as she notices how he lingers on her every so often.


    Valdis

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    #8
    He may be young and naive but, he was not oblivious to the unwelcome gaze of this Ivar. Then again, one of Sylva's own entourage appears taken aback when Juice forms before their eyes. He takes a mental not that, perhaps, his trait is best left unseen. Could it come in handy as a spy? At the moment, Sylva had not called for such a caste; however, he would happily serve if the opportunity arises. For now, he is a diplomatic student. So, he studies the diplomatic exchange between his dapple Queen and the Ischian stag. A tour around the tropical scene is offered and accepted. Juice makes a point to remain silent. If his appearance was not exactly welcome, he figures it best if he not draw attention to himself.

    The young male falls in stride alongside the pale blue-and-white-splashed lady, Valdis. He cannot help but note the interest in the air between the stallion leading them through the sands and the females. Juice ponders what other social encounters entail before he realizes he has fallen behind. Silently, he picks up a springy trot and, only slows to a walk when he is within a horse-length of the Valdis' gold tail. At this point, their path had narrowed considerably and, marching beside the winged mare would not be possible. The bay splash admires the scene. He certainly understands the appeal of clear, teal waters, sun-bleached shores and a central mass of dense green foliage. Unbeknownst to him, his sire walked these very shores and breathed this salty air.

    @[Ivar]
    @[Mary]
    @[Valdis]
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