"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
Agnese was alone. No parents, no guardian, no place to call home. She knew she belonged somewhere, but she couldn’t recall where exactly. In fact, she remembered very little aside from her own name and its meaning. Lamb. Agnese meant “lamb”. She didn’t know how she knew that. She often wondered why she was given the name, and who gave it to her. But when she had awoken she found herself completely alone with nothing leading her to where she had come from, or where her kin may have been. She had to have had a family somewhere. There was no way she could have gotten to such a strange place all on her own.
Right?
Either way, she wandered through the meadows without knowing where she was going. Her only hope was to find someone willing to help her. She was too young to be on her own, and she knew that someone had to be missing her. They must be worried sick, wondering where she could have gone off to. She prayed that soon she would have answers.
However, there were no rules stating she couldn’t explore the new terrain along the way.
03-05-2024, 12:58 PM (This post was last modified: 03-05-2024, 12:59 PM by Everclear.)
EVERCLEAR
-- a dreamer neither lost nor found ;
The Meadow was once his home, before he had devoted his time to the kingdom lifestyle.
How many lifetimes ago had that been? How many years had he sheltered here, untethered and without direction?
He has grown too old to concern himself with such menial details now, though it might amuse him if he were to consider that far off version of himself. Things were simpler then, when his family had still been alive, when he hadn’t known the true burdens of the world. Back then, love seemed effortless and words meant very little in the grand scheme of things.
It wasn’t until he’d found purpose that he’d truly grown.
He has been like her before, the filly who wanders through the snowy grasses now. She is pale against the wintry backdrop and wears a natural blanket of frost across her back. She seems to fit perfectly with the scenery and the slow flurry of snowfall except for the glaring fact that she is alone. She is young and unattended and it makes the dappled stallion wonder about her.
Everclear has wandered here perhaps out of habit or out of curiosity, interested to see what has become of his old haunt throughout all the changes Beqanna has undergone. It seems the same, just emptier but still with its intriguing population. He watches Agnese with the same intrigue as any parent would; she reminds him somewhat of his Citadelle, small and alone in a world with so many endless possibilities.
So he approaches her, his dark legs slipping easily through the brownish grasses to bring him nearer to the filly. With a quiet nicker, he tosses his nose softly in an upward nod of greeting. “Why are you alone, young one?” he asks her gently, tilting his head. The question must seem odd, considering the fact that Everclear hardly looks a day over three years of age, but the depth of his brown eyes clearly reveals the many volumes of his life. His voice is kind, concerned, when he asks next: “Are you not afraid?”
She didn’t know where to go. There didn’t seem to be many horses in the meadow. At least, none that weren’t already busy in conversation. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt something important, despite how important her own situation was. She was timid, and she didn’t want to force her situation onto anyone by asking for help. Yet, help was exactly what she needed. How to go about getting it, though, she wasn’t sure. She watched from a distance as a group of horses conversed, wishing she had the courage to approach them.
She heaved a little sigh and forced herself to turn away. Perhaps it would be better to approach someone that wasn’t already busy. So she wandered off further, keeping a steady and relaxed pace as she observed her surroundings. She admired the snowy field as it danced from the sky. It was cold, but somehow that didn’t bother her at all. Rather, she felt at home in it. For a moment, she allowed herself to kick some of the snow, watching it fly into the air. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to distract herself with something fun, or if it was just out of frustration.
There was a set of hoofsteps approaching that caused her to cease her kicking. She raised her head and glanced about until she noticed a stallion was coming towards her. He appeared to still be in his prime, with a beautiful dark gray coat dappled with spots. She allowed him to come near her, and she lifted her chin as if she was trying to meet his height, although he was much taller than her. He was the first to speak. Some part of her was suddenly anxious. He was a stranger, and she knew that strangers could be dangerous. Especially when they approach you. But another part of her was relieved. She couldn’t get help without speaking with a stranger, because she was in an unknown land with unknown horses. She was left with no other choice.
Her little tail shook behind her, almost with excitement as she replied, “I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know where my family is.” She was honest with him, as she needed to be. But with his second question came uncertainty. She was afraid, very much so. Of many things in fact. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit that or not. She didn’t want to be pitied, or seen as some victim when she herself didn’t know what had happened. But then again, she wasn’t too fond of the notion of lying to anyone. Even to save her pride.
She turned to face him fully and finally answered, “I’m petrified. I don’t know where my family is, or if they even want me. I don’t know where I am or how I got here, and I’m surrounded by strangers. I don’t know what to do.”
The golden young stallion, with a thick golden mane, rolls around feeling the cold snow against his winter coat. As snow gets kicked around him, he snorts, throwing the mucusy snow that went up his nose back out. All four limbs flailing separately, as if none of them were connected. He rolls back onto his belly, hops up and shakes off the white dusty coat that had laid on his back moments prior.
His ears flicker, feeling the wind blow between them and under his coat. He gets a slight chill and shivers a little bit before he hears something moving behind him. Two voices. Two voices talking. It’s rare he hears one, let alone two. He wants to investigate, but instead decides to hide in the treeline a little bit as they get closer. There’s a filly, looks somewhat young and a stallion that’s close to her.
His left ear turns to them to hear what they’re saying. The stallions speaks first. Then the filly. It sounds like she’s scared and lost. But he can’t tell for sure what’s going on. Symba shakes his mane, allowing the rest of the snow that has gathered to fall to the ground when he decides to slowly walk on forward to the pair.
As he approaches, he hears the concern in her voice more clearly. She’s alone. Abandoned potentially. He can relate to that. He too was abandoned as a young colt. But he doesn’t want to scare her more, so he retreats back into the tree line. He sighs and shakes his head disappointed in himself for not allowing himself to get closer. He digs around with his nose in the layer of snow before he was able to find a small nibble of grass cloaking itself underneath, hiding from the elements above.
Too often Everclear had found himself in a similar situation to the young girl before him.
Perhaps not exactly the same – he had known his parents, had grown up with a family both true and situational – but he has certainly felt quite lost before. Hopeless, uncertain, distraught, he had wandered the Meadow so many times searching for something that was glaringly missing from his life.
He had needed somewhere to belong, somewhere to feel safe, somewhere to settle both body and mind. For a while, it had simply been here in the common lands, sleeping beneath the boughs of hickory trees and watching countless nights give way to endless days. He’d passed the time by talking with others, pointless pursuits that got him nowhere and earned him nothing but repeated heartache and loneliness.
When he had befriended a mare named Marie, his life had changed. He had taken up her invitation to live within one of the kingdoms and there began to make a name for himself. When their friendship grew distant, he had followed his heart and joined Spyglass on the throne of Heaven’s Gates, much to the dismay of her subjects.
Looking back, it seems like such a whirlwind of events summed up in such a few vivid memories, though there had been so many events and years between all the peaks of his past achievements.
And now…
Now he is here. He stands with the filly who, despite her youthful determination to appear brave, is quite clearly frightened. Her answers prove that fact quite literally and the stallion smiles at how forthright she is. It is good to be honest, in cases of such dismay. But he cannot tell her that, not when her young voice trembles so and the uncertainty shines clearly in her eyes. Somewhere in his chest his heart aches for her.
Shifting a little, he lowers his head slightly to rest more casually at her level, hoping to show her that he poses no threat. “I am sure they want you back,” he says calmly to her with a soft smile. “Would you like me to help you look for them?”
Lifting his head again, he surveys the area and spies a young stallion who had seemed to take interest in the pair and he whickers softly to him. But Symba has already turned away again, moving back toward the trees. Everclear snorts softly before glancing back to the filly. “Maybe he’s seen something, let’s go ask,” he suggests as coolly as before, tilting his head to indicate the stallion in question.
Leading her toward where the buckskin had retreated to graze, he chuffs quietly when they’re near enough. “Excuse me,” he starts politely. “Have you seen anyone around here who might be missing their daughter? My name is Everclear–” here he looks back to the filly with a nod, meaning to introduce himself to them both “–and I’m trying to help this young lady find her parents.”
03-17-2024, 03:09 PM (This post was last modified: 03-17-2024, 03:11 PM by Symba.)
The stallion lifts his head at the sound of approaching hoof steps and sees a young filly and another stallion standing nearby. He gazes at the young filly, trying to see if he recognizes her, but his efforts are in vain. With a sad expression, he tells her he hasn't seen any other horses in the area. The young filly is depressed, knowing that her herd might have abandoned her. He empathizes with her, as he, too, was left alone at a tender age. However, he knows that such is the life of a wild horse.
The golden stallion introduces himself as Symba, smiling warmly at the young filly, hoping to put her at ease. He assures her that he won't harm her and invites her and the other stallion to hang out. He offers to help the young filly search for her family, even though he knows the likelihood of finding them is slim. But he's determined to do everything he can to help her feel less alone and afraid. He nudges an apple that lays nearby to the filly, hoping it will help her warm up to him more.
Everclear
