"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
It’s become this strange habit, randomly leaving the jungle to seek out any faces from her past. When Lion wasn’t haunting her nightmares, Landon would pop up with a sense of peace. The Tundra stallion had probably been the only one left with the possibility of putting the pieces of her back together. She thinks of him often, how handsome he was. The way they had battled in the Alliance against each other and although he had beaten her, she remembered his flirtatious nature and didn’t hold it against him. It had been a blossoming beginning, so new and held so much possibility. And then all that bullshit happened and her life fell apart and everyone disappeared, she disappeared.
As if in a dream state, she finds that her hooves have hit the dirt. She’s no longer in the jungle, on the path that leads towards the Brotherhood. She doesn’t remember even deciding to go, to leave. It’s a bit disconcerting but she doesn’t turn back. In her prowling way, the jaguar mare continues forward until her hooves are crunching their way over ice. She can’t help but shiver, her fur too short for this weather when all she is use to is humidity. She’s a jaguar, not a snow leopard. This is out of her element. Still she crosses the border, an old habit due to her Khaleesi days. Golden eyes narrowed as snow is thrown in her face from a gust of wind, head lowered, struggling slightly as her limbs sink into the drifts. She won’t stay long she thinks. Just see if he’s here.
It dawns her again that her father had once roamed these lands, had called this home. Had first made something of himself. And also failed as a King here, disappeared. A quick smile flits across her lips at the memory, like father like daughter. Her muscles involuntarily spasm as the cold chills her to the bone, a forlorn spotted figure in a sea of white. Waiting for someone to show. They always did.
the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love
great clouds rolling over the hills
and if you close your eyes, does it almost feel
like nothing's changed at all?
It feels like a lifetime ago, the battles of the Alliance and the time surrounding them.
It had been the second time Brennen had ventured onto the blood-soaked Plains to represent his Kingdom. The first time, the three-year old stallion had been naught more than a child, eager to go into the Gladiator ring and prove himself a worthy son to the King-father he’d just found and also to prove himself worth a second look from the beautiful Lucitania. Despite his youth, he’d prevailed there, taking home both glory and a newfound ability to manipulate bone.
The Alliance had come later. It had come after he lost his father – after his lover left him to bear a prince and then returned, claiming no real feelings for the stallion whose heir she had provided. Brennen had been uncertain of the boy-King he served, half-brother to his own children, because though he later came to like Diresong he was never a fan of the boy’s father. Still, when the chance to represent the Tundra in battle had come, he’d allowed himself to be volunteered, and he’d gone to the fight for King and country without hesitation. That first round, both of the Brothers had faced women of the Jungle – and both Brothers had prevailed, though a secret part of Brennen had hoped Landen would fall to his lady opponent (he was happy then, when Landen failed to beat the stallion he faced in the second round of fighting).
It is hard to remember everything, but the battles stick with him, as do his feelings about the strange politics and people of that era. But despite the passage of time, it’s hard to forget a lady with spots. He doesn’t remember her name, but he can place her face. He had, after all, watched Landen and Tantalize duke it out that first day of the Alliance after his own battled with Echion. He had not cheered for her – not on the outside, anyway – but he had hoped for her to put Landen in his place. The warrior is still vaguely disappointed that she did not. He watches her from the shadow of his ice wall, watches her cross the border with little hesitation, and wonders if he’s gone back in time. Time does not always flow quite right in the Tundra – a side effect of having a non-discriminatory time machine in occasional residence. While Cagney does little with his trait, Kellyn has been known to manipulate time around others just to mess with them. Brennen blames the capricious part of his granddaughter on her crazy mother.
But – no. The scent of Errant is still fresh along the border along with his own, and Diresong’s grandson hadn’t been a thought in anyone’s heads when the Tundra last sent representatives to the Alliance. She may be a face from the past, but they are firmly in the present. Straightening, he gives his wings a great shake, dumping flurries of snow that had been effectively camouflaging him against the ice wall to the ground and walks towards her. There is familiarity in his gaze though he can’t quite summon a name. “It’s been a long time.” he says instead, with an inquisitive tilt of his head.
They had both been rooting for her victory but it had been Landon that emerged with the title belt that day. Not much had happened since that time to the point she had disappeared, new memories have never formed to push out the old so it remains quite fresh in her mind. While losing had been entirely disappointing, she didn’t hold a grudge against the stallion who emerged victor. He had been an equal and fought a fair fight. If she was to lose, she had been glad to lose to someone who was worthy of it.
The stallion that appears is recalled to her in much the same way she is to him. Remembering her battling her friend but not able to recall his name. His appearance sends a comforting wave of relief to flow through her body. Although she doesn’t know exactly who he is, she knows his face and that’s a first since she’s come back to these lands. The jaguar relaxes as much as her body can in the cold weather and she offers her ghost of a smile to him, gold eyes blazing. ”Yes it has.” A pause, taking in his appearance. ”Did you always have wings?” Her voice chattering as she speaks and following with a tinkle of a laugh, brittle as she is these days. ”I can’t recall things like I use to. Forgive me. I’m Tantalize.” Her name offered to him in exchange for his own in the attempts of playing off the rudeness of forgetting who he might be. ”I was looking for Landon but I doubt he’s still around?” There is a hint of hopefulness in her inquiry but not much. So far she hadn’t been able to find anyone that she hoped to find and doubts that this visit will end any differently.
