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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


    [open]  I would clearly feel blessed, if the sun rose up from the west
    #1
    We got older and I should have known
    that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
    Hyaline is quite great, at least, when one admits to the snowy mountain caps and enjoys the view of the lake from afar. But for the frost drake horse, it was quite a climb to find some solitude, and then when he got bored with being alone, he came to realize what he loved most was to have a place that was accessible to him but less others - simply put, he only wants the solitude when it suits him.

    When it doesn’t suit him, he just loves to play tricks or annoy people, and for that, well he needs to meet those people.

    Darn, wouldn’t it be easier to have wings. No wonder Castile gave in to his dragon form so easily, right? Beyond the fact that it was easier not to reign in any bursting emotions, it was just much more fun.

    Of course, himself he had been quite comfortable in his half-state. Or at least before, when the world seemed more of a threat, when Breckin had needed defending when she wouldn’t ask for it - he remembers quite clearly the lavender man, even if Cas was the one to finish it - and when, simply put, he loved boasting his fancy scales and make not-really-a-threat-yet grins at whomever came to make a diplomatic visit.

    Nowadays though, the ice-covered drake didn’t really need the scales, nor the teeth. The teeth, in fact, made a normal horse diet impossible, and so the only useful attribute at the moment was the dragon sight, picking off small prey in the mountains, because the secluded space did not allow for a lot of fruit-bearing trees to grow there.

    The only thing he needed to be a true dragon, he mused, was a hoard of gold (and pretty maidens). Well, that and the actual dragon body of course. All-or-none might just be the better option.

    Yawning, today he had woken however, with the purpose of torturing not his small neighbours (usually birds), but his equine ones. Most in Hyaline however, never really looked up, or ever noticed the cold mountaintop was harbouring a dragon in their midst. Thus, he had to make the trip down, and he did so slowly - only the fact that when he walked down into Loess, it was slightly hot for him already, prevented him from deciding not to go back up again - picking his way through the stony slopes to end up in the neighbouring kingdom.

    To be honest, he didn’t know how many lived in the mountains and he didn’t really care at this point, since they had not cared about him overly much. Sure he could stay, but not many went up to the tops anyway. This place however, smelled like dragons - fire dragons, and he was unsure if he liked it or if he wanted to rip them apart and glace them over. Possibly both - it’s not like the fire-breathers couldn’t handle a little ice… but it would be the kind of nuisance he always loved to be. Wherever one lived.
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    #2
    It has been months since her last flight.

    Lepis had intended only to circle Taiga briefly before landing, yet she finds herself crossing the order between the northern redwood territory and the rocky hills of Loes. The spring wind is warm beneath her outspread wings, and she drifts without exerting herself though the clear air. The world looks so small from here. Horses below are no larger than ants, and the shape and colors of the distinct lands weave into the single tapestry of Beqanna. Lepis smiles; she has no need for her magic when she is up here.

    Eventually though, the weary muscles of her wings remind the dun pegasus that she must land lest she be grounded on the trip home. Seeing movement on the ground below, the Comtesse chooses her landing spot for a dual purpose, resting her wings and greeting someone entereing Loess from Hyaline.

    She swoops down not far from the foothills of the mountains, her navy mane streaming in the wind and sweat streaking her tobiano hide. From flight to a gallop, she finally slows to a halt as she crests a dusty red tussock. The small mare had not expected to recognize the horse from Hyaline, and her plain expression turns to one of mild amusement as she takes in the roan stallion.

    “I’d heard the Icicle Isle was cold, but didn’t think it’d freeze its residents through.” She refers to the glistening ice that covers his scales; he’d not had that the last time she had seen him. There have been a great many changes since the first – and alst – time they’d met. She’s been carrying a child that had never lived, Lepis remembers with a brief shadowing of her smiling face, the son of a man who had followed him to the grave not long afterward. peace she feels, and the shadow lifts to be replaced by a more pleasant light in her blue-grey eyes.

    “What brings you to Loess today, Leilan?”

    @[Castile] @[Leilan]
    so I wrote a reply like 2 or 3 days ago and I could have sworn I posted it, but as Aeris pointed out – I obviously did not. So this is my attempt to recreate it.
    #3
    We got older and I should have known
    that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
    Lazy - that’s what he is these days, or at least, right now. A lazy half-draconic creature, calling himself a horse one day and a dragon the next - either way, he doesn’t seem to fit where he’s at, most of the time, and this leads him to go wandering through the world. Leilan was never made to sit still.

    Honestly, this used to be a bother to him, that he didn’t quite find a place to fit in. It drove him to explore most if not all of the known Beqannan world, court every lady in the process of finding one that would stick, one who - for lack of a place that seemed to be one - he could call home.

    And he had. He had all of it for some time, long enough at least, to at last feel grounded and secure. But she didn’t really fit in Beqanna, and it now turns out that he does. He can’t say that there is one particular spot in Beqanna that is his true home - but he knows that leaving this magical place for good was never an option. Temporarily - sure. But really - all of Beqanna is his home, and all of Beqanna is his family in one way or another. Thus, he sticks his nose wherever he feels like, even if he doesn’t, to them, belong.

    Though, perhaps Loess is an exception to his cheery wandering, what with him having been it’s prisoner for some time. By now though, it seems that most, if not all, his former captors have gone elsewhere - they aren’t around (a conclusion based on scent), yet it’s perhaps the smell of Loess itself that instills somewhat of an adverse reaction in him. Or, the fire-and-ash smell of dragon, causes a more primal territorial irk.

    Nevertheless, he feels like poking them; see what they’re made of, who will greet him amicably or who’ll evade or even (verbally) attack him. He likes to think he’s civilized - so do other equines. That doesn’t mean one can’t be provoked, and in a lazy sort of way, that’s what he came for. Stir the pot and see what comes floating.

    Speaking of floating, the equine scent that nears him in his travels is airborne, and the shadow that accompanies it a familiar one. He shoots her a grin at her so-called greeting, slowly and deliberately looking from her to Loess, then back - having noticed that she had come from a more northern direction, but using the more ‘subtle’ (he can’t ever be really subtle) way of expressing his surprise. He stops in his tracks to wait for her. “You almost sound jealous, but don’t worry - that island can’t top you when it comes to freezing.” After all, she could freeze anyone’s insides with a glare or a too-sharp comment. He shrugs a little. “It’s only faerie magic that caused this, and I dig it.” he offers, giving her a blue-eyed grin, a cold air stemming from him while he talks, if only to indicate that he’s made of more ice than just what’s on the outside.

    Her face seems to shadow, though if it’s his remark or not he can’t quite say - she seems turned inward in that moment. She finishes with the more usual question, but this time he knows she’s not coming out of Loess, and in fact doesn’t smell like it. No, Lepis smells of a more northern region, though it’s neither as salty as Nerine nor as icy as the Isle: leaving it to be Taiga. “I’d ask you the same thing.” he smiles lazily - perhaps her peaceful emotion reflects on him too, but he’s quite at ease where he is. He’s not threatening her negotiations this time, at least. “Can’t a guy just explore a land without having a higher purpose?” Though it occurs to him that Lepis might exactly be the type to have a higher purpose to most of her movements and wanderings, she could have estimated by now that Leilan is less interested in all of that; but perhaps she forgot about that. It’s been a long time, after all. Last time… must have been Ischia?
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    I wasn’t sure if @[Aeris] wanted to join this thread or not, but figured it wouldn’t be weird if Cas joined in a bit later due to the fact they’re close to/at the border still, so I’ll leave that up to you Smile
    @[Lepis]
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    #4
    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 sees Leilan traipse the mountains and weave down worn, perilous trails to Loess. He watches in silence, his body coiled restfully at the mouth of his family’s cavern in the jaded peaks. Without immediate need to approach, Castile merely grumbles and expels a puff of black smoke from his nostrils. It has been years since they’ve last crossed paths – back on Icicle Isle, perhaps? – and although he had intentions to visit, life had other ideas.

    With each passing year, their tightly woven threads have stretched farther and farther apart. They are practically strangers now, but with enough history to remain cordial. Their last interaction had been when Castile was riddled with guilt and regret over Sabra. A single chuckle reverberates through him – has it really been so long? It seems like an entire lifetime ago.

    For a long while, he waits and observes the frosted male – his scales dance like diamonds in the sunlight – descend only to be confronted none other than Lepis. An unbidden grin stretches across his lips, but before long, he is joining them after a brief flight down to lower ground. His shadow swallows them initially at his height before he steadily and nonchalantly spirals down. Midway, his body shrinks and returns to that of a horse so that by the time he alights, there are hooves instead of claws hitting the rocky turf.

    ”Now, now, no need for sassiness, Leilan,” his intense, metallic eyes bore into the male but they soften beneath his unruly forelock when they slip to Lepis, ”especially not toward a family member of mine.” No, it isn’t by blood. It was by choice, a tether that is oftentimes stronger. He nonetheless presses his muzzle to Lepis’ neck, a tender gesture that only his kin sees and experiences. When he breathes her in, he can nearly taste the coniferous trees of Taiga and the seasonal edging that Loess sometimes lacks. Withdrawing from her is slow, almost even reluctant because of the comforting familiarity, but he regards them both now with an amicable expression. ”Two visits at once. How am I so lucky?” A chuckle rolls from within him, a deep and rumbling sound that can almost be mistaken for a growl if not for the light-hearted question. ”But in all reality, what brings you, Leilan?” Considering the ties Loess possesses with Taiga (among other lands), there is an unspoken freedom to travel among each of the allied territories.

    But the frosted drake (wannabe?) reeks of everything and nothing. Inclining his baroque head, he asks, ”Are you no longer in Icicle Isle?” He has already noted the strong hints of Hyaline on his skin.

    castile


    @[Leilan] @[Lepis]
    #5
    He must have a crick in his neck with the way he’s turning his head this way and that before finally meeting Lepis’ gaze again. Her expression, previously brightened with mild amusement, darkens to neutrality at his sharp response to her greeting. Leave it to Leilan to turn good humor into an insult, the dun mare thinks to herself; she should be long past surprised at this point. His own king had once felt the need to put a muzzle on him, so his abrasive tongue in a foreign land is nothing unexpected.

    Well, perhaps unexpected to Lepis, who expects others to make a modicum of effort to improve themselves. She does not blame her children for their childish behavior, and she finds now that if she thinks of Leilan as an overgrown boy whose mother had failed him, he is much easier to tolerate. So she smiles, possessed of far better control than at their last meeting, and the expression on her navy-marked face is softens again. Something between indulgence and pity dances behind her blue-grey eyes as she prepares to reply to Leilan’s refusal to answer why he is wandering about Loess. He might find himself amusing, and Lepis might be prepared to treat him as a wayward child, but that does not mean he is not intruding without proof of permission.

    “Not without an invitation,” she begins. Whatever else she’d been about to say trails off at the shadow that passes over them. Lepis’ eyes dart upward to where a familiar shape grows smaller and then lands beside them. Her benevolent smile changes to one that is far happier, and she returns the Dragon King’s greeting with a touch of her muzzle to his jaw. The tenderness of Castile’s gesture is mirrored in her own, though the adoration in her eyes is nothing more than platonic. The dragon is her beloved uncle, had been her father figure when she was a child queen here in Loess.

    That they are of a like mind, and that he repeats her question to Leilan brings a sense of satisfaction. The pegasus mare turns back to Leilan for an answer, curious if his tongue might be bridled by the presence of a dragon. Somehow, she finds herself doubting that it will.

    @[Castile]
    @[Leilan]
    #6
    We got older and I should have known
    that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
    The frosted roan might indeed best be described as an overgrown child, though honestly, with the similarly sassy remark Lepis just made about his former home, he’d simply felt the need to rebuke. Besides, he figured that it was to be expected by someone who met him before (and got under his skin, and he under hers), that such jokes were bound to be bounced back.

    So it is that when the scaled form of Castile nears them and then semi-scolds him, the silver roan snorts a little, the words ‘she started it’ only just in time covered. Seeing Lepis’ mood, he decides against darkening her face any more, as she seemed visibly irritated for a diplomatic-rock-face. Still, when he turns his expression towards Cas, it is both a lighthearted and a semi-affronted one as if to say he’d expected better than to have Castile ask him to be something he isn’t. But it’s not important - it’s the other remark that’s really interesting. Family, huh? Good to know the male had at least succeeded in that thing. Leilan couldn’t currently say the same, after all.

    ”For starters, it’s good to know that you’re the source of the fire-dragon-smell out here. Found your family and a new home at the same time, didn’t you?” Leilan tells him, ears perked forward in the greeting of the more familiar of the two family members. It’s not that he had ever minded that Castile never came back and this should be clear from his relaxed stance and face - he knew a fire dragon didn’t belong on a frozen island, as much as his frozen self doesn’t belong in Tephra. Or Loess, as a matter of fact. No cacti for Leilan.

    He looks around as if searching for a way to continue the conversation, his gaze landing on Lepis. Speaking of prickly things. Not without an invitation, she’d said, and the implication of that remark, combined with Castile’s mentioning of her being a family member, settles finally. He turns back to the dragon-shifter with a frown. ”I didn’t think any of the lands would be on lock-down. Clearly I’ve been away longer than I thought?” Were politics that bad? It really was a shame. Shaking his head a little, though it could easily be rearrangement of his mane, he continues to answer Castile. ”For what it’s worth, I am just looking around - trying to catch up.” A open, sideways nod to Lepis follows, as she had come from the Taiga - the smell is evidence enough, if her northern approach hadn’t been. She represents one of the changes he hadn’t quite picked up on yet. However, it also appears that she had assumed the worst of him - but Leilan had done nothing to indicate he was trying to hide anything, in his opinion. Thus Loess might have made some enemies.

    It seemed to him though, that he was caught up plenty in the few moments he was… welcomed… here. Even if his former acquaintance with Castile was worth something, it was only to an extent. And he already knew Lepis hated his guts for some reason, so nothing new there. Only the fact that she now apparently spoke for Loess, which is something she’d never done in his time here - only after Bane got the title.

    A tilt of his head follows, as the scaled stallion looks at the other two when the last thought occurs. ”Where’s Bane anyway?” That striped stud had never let a moment pass to exchange insults with the roan. All in good sports, of course. Just like this meeting (should have been).
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    D’aww, sorry @[Lepis] I forgot how quickly he insults her oopsie
    [Castile] your turn because I posted from work
    <3
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    #7
    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
    The tension between Lepis and Leilan can be cut with a knife and yet Castile remains with a composed, amiable grin that follows his dancing eyes between them. One is family and the other was a confidant years ago and a fellow kingdom member as Castile groped desperately for a true home and purpose. History lies with both of them; they are important faces of his life both then and now as the years continue to slip by and through his fingers.

    ”I’ve yet to find any other dragon shifters outside of my family, but I look forward to the day,” there have lately been a surplus of mimickers, some still related to him, but true shifters are seemingly far and few between. There is father of course, and Bronsonn, with Mist as well. Santana is his only child to inherit the shifting fully, too.

    Little does he know that a couple more are sprouting with this year’s spring, outside of his own gene pool.

    Shifting his draconic wings idly against his sides, he weighs everything said, noting any hints of discomfort or displeasure. He doesn’t hang onto every tone and every stare, however, as a shrug ripples through his muscular shoulders. ”No, not a lockdown. Just territory and kingdom formalities, of which I’m sure you’re aware,” he responds coolly, not at all offended or chiding for the intrusion beyond the bordering mountains. If he had ill intent, that would be a separate matter entirely, but Castile senses no threat by the frosted drake. ”It’s good to see you again, Leilan. It has been quite some time.” Castile blames himself. Life pulled him far from Nerine and Icicle Isle when he had full intentions to return. A visit has been collecting dust on his agenda, pushed aside again and again to address the more pressing matters of kingdom life, such as war and betrayal.

    A mild glance searches Lepis’ face to read her reaction to Leilan’s question, but she has always been proud and open as to where she leads (because she has never been a follower). A lopsided grin finds its way across his mouth as his head turns back to Leilan. ”Taiga, actually. Lepis rules Taiga with Wolfbane focusing on life as a soldier. They remain closely tied and favored by Loess.” They aren’t a subkingdom, but friends. Castile always emphasizes that the power of Loess stems from friends that have been forged throughout the years. One thing that worries him is the fact that every good thing must one day come to an end. He can only hope that the diplomatic ties webbing across Beqanna will not burn in front of his eyes while his reign continues. He hopes to not again face betrayal.

    castile


    @[Leilan] @[Lepis]
    #8
    Lepis watches the exchange between the two stallions, her blue-grey eyes darting from one face to the other. She is not certain when the two might have last met, but it is more than obvious that they are well-acquainted. The men in her life all seem to know Leilan, though Lepis is not entirely sure if this is a blessing or a curse. Regardleess, she takes in their comments on dragon kind, and her continuously neutral expression returns to Leilan as he mentions the lands being on lock-down.

    That does get a visibly chilly response – the first one of the conversation – but it is nothing more than a raised brow and a look that is nearly disbelieving. A child, she reminds herself, think of him like a child. Children don’t understand borders, aren’t aware of the fact that it’s been standard protocol for decades that a visitor to a strange land wait on the border to be escorted farther. But Leilan should, she thinks, and wonders if perhaps his ignorance is a ploy of some sort, designed to distract them or draw out information that they might not have otherwise shared.

    Castile does not give him anything though, and Lepis leans one shoulder against the fire drake for just a moment. With the contact comes the faintest thread of distrust. Castile had been subjected to the hurricane that had been Lepis as a child and adolescent, and her emotional projection is no secret to the piebald stallion. She expects that he will recognize her projection for what it is – a message - but he might also be unknowingly affected by it. Either outcome is acceptable to the navy haired mare.

    “He’s home with our youngest today,” Lepis replies, providing further detail to the question of where her husband is. “But he does still serve as Loess’ Champion, and our southern ties remain strong.” That is more for Castile’s benefit, and she glances up at him with a smile. She might rule a nothern territory, but her heart will always belong here in these yellow hills. It’s what she’d come here for, after all; finding Leilan had been entirely coincidental.  Her intent is to ally her redwood land with Loess as tightly as the Pampas and Sylva (may it burn), and she projects trust and belonging as wordless affirmation.

    @[Leilan]
    @[Castile]
    #9
    We got older and I should have known
    that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
    He does it all on purpose - the quick jabs, the sassy responses, the looks that say just about the same thing. Strolling leisurely past the border is exactly what he wants to do; all of this gives him a quick insight in the ones who approach him, intercept him, and if their purpose is honest or hidden.

    This is Leilan’s assessment of the current situation. Lepis is one of those who hides stuff. Everything she does, she fears others knowing about it, about her, about her land. She keeps secrets, for reasons the roan can’t fathom. Of course, knowledge is power, but if on the (counting this one) two occasions that the roan and the dun had met, she hadn’t been acting overly suspicious, Leilan would have been none the wiser. Instead, she brings it upon herself that he gives her these curious looks, that he wants to draw her out. Her actual secrets though, couldn’t interest him one bit. Couldn’t use them anyway, since nobody ever believes him.

    Castile appears the opposite, much more like Leilan himself. Brutally honest if need be, and no shying away from anything. That’s why the two - three, counting Wolfbane who gives off a similar air - get along so well. Or they used to, at any rate.

    Thinking back, he strolled into the neighbouring kingdom with the purpose of getting to know who lives here and what they’re like. The answer is simple now; Castile is leading it, and for the scaled stallion, that seems quite alright and no more answer is needed. Lepis being in Taiga with Wolfbane is much more curious, as that means that Lepis has to deal with Heartfire now. (Kensa told him his niece still lives there.) Somehow Leilan wonders if they will ever get along; Heartfire doesn’t like it when someone tries to hide anything, especially knowledge. She will find out over time, he is certain - Heartfire always finds out what is being hidden.

    Which means his trip’s purpose here is already fulfilled, the answer is enough, and the male focuses on exchanging pleasantries with the dragon. A nod follows the tobiano’s remark about dragon shifters; true, Leilan is one of those mimickers, and even before he left he’d noticed the rise of dragonblood and -traits all around. His own had come to him later in life, but those born with it - Castile’s offspring as well as his own - sometimes seemed to just take it all for granted. But that’s something else entirely, and not something the roan wants to dive into now. Or ever, truly.

    ”You know me,” he grins, noting just the fact that he had never bothered much with any border, and thus it’s not because he chose Loess in particular to cross into, just to offend them - if he had wanted to offend them, there were many other ways to do so. Besides, he hadn’t hid the fact that he was there at all, and took a slow pace. Easy to intercept. Meant to be intercepted. Couldn’t have laid it on any thicker, except calling out, but that would have echoed from the mountainside he was, is still, on, and he had figured it wasn’t needed. Turns out that this is something Lepis hates him for. If she wants to be that petty, she can stick it somewhere - he doesn’t want to be involved.

    Castile continues; his voice seems to edge with a tiny amount of regret when he says it’s been some time, but the frosted horse brushes it away. ”Don’t worry about it. I daresay we both had our heads filled with family matters.” Didn’t he tell the dragon to go and find his family? Not that Leilan had actually meant ‘go and stay away’ but, if that was the firebreather’s choice, then the ice-attuned male wouldn’t be bothered. There had been bigger fish to fry at the time.

    Lepis has a way of bringing the conversation back to politics, even if Castile doesn’t go free of this either, and this earns her a very neutral look in comparison to the friendly (though falling) one he’d previously exchanged with Castile. Seems like there’s no other way than to actually say it to her face. ”I hate to break it to you Lepis, but I’ve exactly zero interest in your or anyone’s political ties.” So, he changes the subject. ”I guess congratulations on the little one are in order. I hope they’re in good health, but I see you’re not worried so I’ll assume that it is so.”

    Meaning, if she doesn’t want to talk about her secret agenda for Taiga, she shouldn’t bring it up. Meaning, if she has nothing friendly to say to him, perhaps she shouldn’t involve herself with him. Meaning, perhaps this conversation is as good as over, since the subject has been nothing but annoying politics, and still no update on anything else much. Well, he now knows that Wolfbane is with Lepis - and they have children and live in Taiga. Why this is so, Leilan doesn’t think he’ll ever understand, so he doesn’t bother to ask.

    He replaces his neutral look, setting it on Castile. ”I think it’s my turn to go and look for my family.” A small smile follows, seeing the irony - he’d been Castile’s leader then, now Castile ranks above him. But that’s life. And Leilan doesn’t need Castile’s permission to go roam the lands; he’s not his subject. Although Taiga might now be a no-go zone, pending Lepis’ reaction to the most honest statement he ever made to her.
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |




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