"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
11-04-2015, 05:54 PM (This post was last modified: 11-04-2015, 05:54 PM by Hurricane.)
As they had spoken, day had fallen into night, leaving the stars twinkling in bright disarray overhead. So when Solomyr nods his consent to accompany Hurricane to his homeland, the gray stallion is quite ready to begin the journey. The field, fortunately, is situated in such a way that it is convenient to most of the kingdoms, the Tundra included. Under normal circumstances, Hurricane might have flown the distance in a fairly short amount of time. As it is, with the other stallion being quite flightless, they are required to walk. Even so, the walk is not a terribly long one.
Which is fortunate for Solomyr, as he had appeared quite ready to fall asleep at any moment throughout the conversation. Once his agreement is given, Hurricane wastes no time in leading the man to his wintry home. With a short jerk of his head, he indicates the direction in which they need to travel with only a few simple words.
”This way.”
As they walk, the scenery changes rapidly from lush meadows and dense forests to more wide open spaces and increasingly sparse and hardier vegetation. Not that they could see much in the pre-dawn light.
Before long, the massive ice wall is looming before them, a great, solid sentinel that guards the borders of the Tundra. Hurricane angles easily for the single opening in the massive wall. As the only way through, all creatures who cannot fly must use that pass to enter the kingdom. Which, as far as Hurricane is concerned, is a good thing. As the one who inevitably ends up patrolling the vast kingdom most often, the task would seem impossible were it not for that fact.
When finally they have passed from beneath the massive wall’s shadow, Hurricane nods out at the kingdom. In the distance, the ruins housing the Brotherhood’s caves are faintly visible in the early morning light. His gaze turns to Solomyr as he bids him a simple welcome.
”The Tundra.”
He pauses for a moment, considering the stallion.
”Rest. I will find you when you awaken.”
That said, he flares his wings wide and launches himself into the air, heading out for his routine morning patrol. And, true to his word, he finds Solomyr when he has awoken from his sleep.
There is never a day that goes by
that is a good day to die.
Hurricane
I'm very sorry for the wait! I figured we could fast-forward time a bit here so the Solomyr could sleep, if that works for you
With heavy lids the stallion drove his body forward, willing his limbs to obey their orders and carry him to the Tundra. Ears lay flattened beneath his mass of matted mane, annoyance plagued him but at least he had somewhere safe and secure to rest for a while. Twinkling balls of burning gases filled the sky, illuminating the way a little; not needed too much for the brilliance of the alabaster stallion lit the way enough.
A wintry bite stung his hide as he powered on, noting the spacious feel to his surroundings as the cold fought off the vegetation. Nostrils quivered violently as he inhaled the icy air around him, new scents invaded his nostrils as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly; gazing around him as he followed Hurricane to his new home.
A large ice wall, loomed ahead and a brow rose to it; such an impressive sculpture, he wondered if the equines had any aid in its construction. A small slit appeared ahead as Hurricane slid through it; Solomyr's ears lowered a little more as he shifted his large bulk to slide through the ice. The cold touched his sides and dampened his coat slightly but it didn't bother him too much. Eventually Hurricane spoke, introducing him to the Tundra. It looked desolate and lifeless; just perfect for him. A small smirk crossed his lips but he hid it tactfully as Hurricane turned to speak. Once the man had left he sighed heavily and crumpled his large body onto the floor. Legs tucking up neatly as his droopy lids were allowed to close and he fell into a soft slumber, ears twitching as he dreamed; ever alert.
....
The beating of wings awoke him as his limbs shot out, quickly scrambling to find his feet once more. Eyes narrowed into steely slits as he neck stretched out to level his head; lips pulling slightly to expose his teeth to whoever approached. Though he need not show such a display as he soon registered it to be the ivory stallion that had brought him here. A little warmth flushed beneath his cheeks in slightly embarrassment as he realized he may have made a fool of himself; but little matter, it was expected when one had lived alone for so long.
The light of day illuminated the land as he got his first glimpse of the Tundra, something in the distance he could not quite make out caught his eye. The land was covered in a heavy frost, snow littering the ground all around. Most remained unsettled around him; it would seem he had not been disturbed the whole night. Lips parted as his mouth stretched wide into a yawn, eyes focusing on Hurricane. Dipping his head politely he again surveyed the area, seemingly pleased with where he had been brought. A brow raise as he turned to Hurricane, completely masking the small flicker of hope he felt inside.
"So this is the Tundra? How many reside here? It seems incredibly sparse."
He wished it not to be a big herd but the land seemed large enough that he did not have to converse or entertain others all the time. Solomyr wondered only now about Hurricane; was he the ruler here? Surely he must be someone of power here, with his stature and the way he spoke it seemed almost certain. But he had better wait for a reply; rude to make an assumption on something that one does not know.
The early morning air is frigid, turning breath to steam as soon as it leaves the lungs. And though the sun dawns bright, sending streaks of pink across the sky, it, as yet, has no impact upon the chilly land. At its highest peak it would raise the temperature a few degrees, helping to thaw the first layer of frost riming the ground. Positively balmy by Tundra standards, but still wintry by any other. For Hurricane, it is something he has long since grown used to. His pale coat remains thick most of the year, his feathered wings ruffled and filled with down. Even during the all too brief summers he never quite loses his shaggy appearance; just as none of the stallions who live here do. In the Tundra, it is simply a fact of life.
The newcomer seems to acclimate fairly quickly. Or, at the very least, is very good at ignoring the elements. When Hurricane returns, it is to find him just awakening. Solomyr rises swiftly to his feet upon hearing his approach, incurring the winged stallion’s silent approval. Quick reflexes. Always a good thing to have in such an unforgiving land. While wildlife is relatively sparse in this clime, the ones that do thrive are not always the friendliest.
As he lands on the frozen earth before the darker stallion with a soft whump, he surveys him just as Solomyr studies the surrounding landscape. The Tundra is flat and wide, the only structures breaking up the otherwise empty space being the caves in the distance and the looming ice wall.
The ice wall in and of itself is not something Hurricane has often considered, though in truth it could be considered exceedingly odd. The massive structure has been such an important part of the Tundra’s landscape for enough years that Hurricane has ceased to think of it overly much. Though, nearly a decade ago now, the wall had melted in the wake of the disasters that had befallen Beqanna, it had promptly been replaced. It had been an impressive feat (although impressive feats have long ago become almost commonplace in Beqanna).
As he stands before the other stallion, Hurricane remains silent until Solomyr has placed his questions before him.
”We are few in number at the moment. You will get to meet them soon enough, I am sure.”
He pauses a moment, considering what more to say. It is true the Tundra is few in number, giving everyone more than ample space. But then again, you could likely fit the whole of every kingdom inside the Tundra without feeling cramped.
”As you might imagine, we are looking to fill our ranks. Recruiting is one way to gain the promotions you seek.”
As ever, he is quite blunt. No use in dancing delicately around such a subject, as far as he is concerned.
”Speaking of, if you choose to stay, let me know which caste you would prefer to join. War or peace.”
He is quite certain he already knows which one the man will choose to join. Nevertheless, the option needed to be put forth.
