• Logout
  • 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


    Thread Rating:
    • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
    • 1
    • 2
    • 3
    • 4
    • 5
    Noah, anyone;
    #1
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Sylva addressed the rumors in a most proactive way, but silence is carried on the wind from the Pampas. Curious, Castile takes to the skies. A summer gale kisses his sweat-slicked skin as he gains altitude to maneuver among the clouds. Seeing the world unroll beneath him is a sight of which he has never tired. With the mildest of grins, he watches as the mountains and rocky hills diminish into open fields and winding streams. Beyond their view, Castile seizes the opportunity to quietly observe. He traces the outlines of the herd, memorizing how it shares a natural barricade of trees with Sylva and a coast with the inlet. There are some horses scattered among the open plains, but it’s sparse.

    With a tilt of his body, Castile veers toward to the eastern border shared with Loess, alighting where the two lands kiss.

    A cough rattles through him, a sickening reminder of the plague still festering within him. Soon, he decides, he will pay another visit to Tiphon to suppress the symptoms again. He can only hope the plague lifts in the near future.

    It takes only a heartbeat to compose himself following the hoarse cough. A throaty call is emitted then, beckoning the leader and any whom have found this to be home. As preferable as it may be to remain in the confines of Loess – mapping its future, organizing its ranks – Castile realizes the responsibility thrusted upon him. Beneath his kingdom lies the Pampas. It, too, requires a sliver of his safeguarding and observation. Never having met the leaders – or in this case, a solitary lead mare – he carries himself formally, attentive in his waiting.

    castile


    @[Noah]
    #2

    that's all there is

    She is content to lead her quiet life, and though the Pampas has been widely just left alone, she doesn’t suspect anything is amiss. Her assumption has simply been that Wolfbane and Lepis are busy with their own people, and there has been nothing wrong that would lead him to seek her out. So, she seeks the source of the unfamiliar call with nothing but curiosity in her eyes, a short flight across the fields of wild flowers to alight nearly soundlessly before the pied stallion. He’s quite striking, his bold colors framed in gold, but beyond that her impressions are rather split.


    He carries the faint smell of Loess, which is reassuringly the scent of Wolfbane and Lepis. But he’s unfamiliar, obviously physically powerful, and just as obviously (at least to Noah) ill. So ill that she can nearly taste the oily threads of the disease on him, and it makes her own skin crawl in sympathy. The last time she fought this battle against a case of the plague this bad, she lost, and it took a lot out of her. But she inhales deeply as she crosses the final few steps and knows she’ll try anyway. “Hello, I’m Noah,” dark chestnut wings are folded quietly against her sides, and even the rustle of feathers might be enough to drown out her muted voice. “Did Bane send you? I’m happy to do my best, of course, but I have to warn you I haven’t been a successful healer every time.”

    noah



    @[Castile]
    #3
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Castile’s wait is brief, not at all long enough to alarm him. He is in the midst of observing the rolling fields and hills of flowers when she arrives. Her wings fold delicately to her sides after their use to soundlessly soar above her homeland in order to promptly reach him. In gratitude, he smiles and nods his head.

    Concern reads on her face, and he can only imagine why. The infection runs rampant in his veins despite having allowed healers to temporarily soothe the symptoms. It isn’t enough. It will never be enough. And he shrugs with this confession when she mistakes him for a victim instead of a King. ”We have healers, but nothing has truly cured it,” but she is speaking of trying and so he doesn’t turn her away, ”but feel free to give it a shot.” Thinking about the plague psychologically makes him want to cough. The tickling sensation drums down the length of his throat until he swallows it down, pushing past the urge.

    ”I’m Castile,” he finally introduces after an idle shift of his wings and thoughtful blink. A lungful of her scent registers it to his memory while his gaze greedily memorizes every soft line of her face and feathers adorning her wings. ”Wolfbane and Lepis have long since stepped down. They appointed another man whom in turn handed me the throne.” He searches her for a reaction then, having known that he was required to spread the word of his ascension. While a part of him wants to add more, including deeper reasons for his visit, Castile refrains to allow the information to marinade.


    castile


    @[Noah]
    #4

    that's all there is

    She can’t help herself – she knows it will exhaust her, but the wrongness of it is like having all of her fur brushed the wrong way. Noah shuffles her wings, tries to settle, but in the end she reaches for the strange magic anyway, dropping into nearly a trance-state as she chases down the shadows. Her own breathing deepens, her gaze going vacant, and she is almost lost to the world, but some part of her catches his words.


    It’s a flicker of unease against the back of her mind, but she can’t spare the focus to think too hard about it – she’s busy chasing demons and dragons in his blood, trying to erase every trace of the illness. When she’s done the best she can, she surfaces, slowly, her breathing as shaky as the slight tremors in her limbs. The cases where the infection runs wild are the hardest, the most exhausting. She takes a moment, her head dropped slightly, to remember what he said. Something clenches in her stomach, because the uncertainty is strong – she’d known Bane, known Lepis, and trusted them. He is an unknown.


    Quietly, she lifts her face to study him as he has studied her, trying to see something quite intangible. Is he as trustworthy as they had been? “I am sorry, for that,” she whispers eventually, “Because Bane and Lepis were my friends. Loess was a safe Kingdom, for me, knowing that. What are your plans for the Kingdom, Castile?”

    noah



    @[Castile] sorry for the wait /hides/

    @[Beqanna Fairy] can we roll for healing please :3
    #5
    You rolled a 2 and will not be healed.




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)