06-22-2019, 09:32 AM
It is still strange to wake up in the woods.
Lepis is a creature raised on the cliffs, and to open her eyes and feel small is a sensation she is still learning. The redwoods stretch toward the sky not unlike the stone of her rugged birthland, but there is no perch for her there, and so her golden wings often remain tucked tightly to her sides. They are there today and she winds through the woods beside her husband, breathing deep of the fog-and-salt air. Pteron is overhead, she suspects, the wingbeats barely audible and his form entirely invisible. For a moment she pictures him as a foal again, small and pale, and she smiles. She’d been so frightened when he disappeared moments after being born, and now she accepts his gift as easily as she does the way her youngest girl can change her vision.
(With a long-suffering sigh and a mother’s patience for her children’s tricks).
Marni is ahead of them, weaving in and out of the russet trunks, and the dun mare glances over at her husband who once again wears his blue stripes. He holds himself with confidence, and Lepis smiles, feeling that at last things might be turning out the way that she wants them. There is no changing the past, but they have proven that they can shape the future. They will success, she is certain of it. The dun pegasus rolls her scarred shoulders and resettles her long navy mane across them with a shake of her head. While showing the Taigans her history of struggles with her scars might serve to intimidate them, it is for her own benefit that she hides them (and suppresses the memories of them as well).
One memory that she has not surpressed is that of the violet-eyed mare that comes to stand beside Aten.
“Lethy!” She says with a sudden smile, recalling the mare’s arrival in Loess and request to see the land. Lepis had been happy to show her, and it has never occurred to her that she might find the buckskin mare in the Taiga. Izora Lethia had mentioned Kensa, after all, and the pegasus had been under the impression that the other mare called Hyaline home. More things than the leadership of Taiga have changed in the last six months, it would seem.
“It’s good to see you again. You live in Taiga now?” The question probably isn’t necessary, as the mare smells of the woods as strongly as Aten, but Lepis does her best to be polite. She knows that Aten is probably not of the same opinion, but after their initial – and only – meeting, she will not blame the champagne stallion. Some things are necessary for the greater good though, and that comes before politeness.
“I’m not sure if Aten has told you yet,” (and she addresses this to any others who have gathered, though her attention for now is on the mare with the amethyst eyes), “but my husband Wolfbane and I have taken control of Taiga. Aten is remaining as the protector and champion, and we are both grateful, as his knowledge of the woods and its people is invaluable.” She pauses here to look at Aten. She cannot read the thoughts behind his steely gaze – nor those of his feathered companion – but she offers him a nod of acknowledgment.
“We have plans for the woods, and bring with us ties to other lands, including the protection of alliances. We value the input of all residents of the woods, and would ask that you freely voice any concerns or suggestions you might have. Understand that while we our ascension was sudden that we are not dictators – merely driven.” Lepis falls silent, taking a breath to replenish what she has lost in her speech. It has been some time since she made such an address, and she has forgotten how good it felt.
Lepis is a creature raised on the cliffs, and to open her eyes and feel small is a sensation she is still learning. The redwoods stretch toward the sky not unlike the stone of her rugged birthland, but there is no perch for her there, and so her golden wings often remain tucked tightly to her sides. They are there today and she winds through the woods beside her husband, breathing deep of the fog-and-salt air. Pteron is overhead, she suspects, the wingbeats barely audible and his form entirely invisible. For a moment she pictures him as a foal again, small and pale, and she smiles. She’d been so frightened when he disappeared moments after being born, and now she accepts his gift as easily as she does the way her youngest girl can change her vision.
(With a long-suffering sigh and a mother’s patience for her children’s tricks).
Marni is ahead of them, weaving in and out of the russet trunks, and the dun mare glances over at her husband who once again wears his blue stripes. He holds himself with confidence, and Lepis smiles, feeling that at last things might be turning out the way that she wants them. There is no changing the past, but they have proven that they can shape the future. They will success, she is certain of it. The dun pegasus rolls her scarred shoulders and resettles her long navy mane across them with a shake of her head. While showing the Taigans her history of struggles with her scars might serve to intimidate them, it is for her own benefit that she hides them (and suppresses the memories of them as well).
One memory that she has not surpressed is that of the violet-eyed mare that comes to stand beside Aten.
“Lethy!” She says with a sudden smile, recalling the mare’s arrival in Loess and request to see the land. Lepis had been happy to show her, and it has never occurred to her that she might find the buckskin mare in the Taiga. Izora Lethia had mentioned Kensa, after all, and the pegasus had been under the impression that the other mare called Hyaline home. More things than the leadership of Taiga have changed in the last six months, it would seem.
“It’s good to see you again. You live in Taiga now?” The question probably isn’t necessary, as the mare smells of the woods as strongly as Aten, but Lepis does her best to be polite. She knows that Aten is probably not of the same opinion, but after their initial – and only – meeting, she will not blame the champagne stallion. Some things are necessary for the greater good though, and that comes before politeness.
“I’m not sure if Aten has told you yet,” (and she addresses this to any others who have gathered, though her attention for now is on the mare with the amethyst eyes), “but my husband Wolfbane and I have taken control of Taiga. Aten is remaining as the protector and champion, and we are both grateful, as his knowledge of the woods and its people is invaluable.” She pauses here to look at Aten. She cannot read the thoughts behind his steely gaze – nor those of his feathered companion – but she offers him a nod of acknowledgment.
“We have plans for the woods, and bring with us ties to other lands, including the protection of alliances. We value the input of all residents of the woods, and would ask that you freely voice any concerns or suggestions you might have. Understand that while we our ascension was sudden that we are not dictators – merely driven.” Lepis falls silent, taking a breath to replenish what she has lost in her speech. It has been some time since she made such an address, and she has forgotten how good it felt.
