"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
Those black eyes barely remember this places, but striped legs walk as if they never left. The path to the Field looks so different, but it smells the same, feels the same. There's a buzz from the earth which dances up his legs with each step, and as he weaves through the Field, keenly searching for a space large enough for him to stand out (does he need help standing out? He has never seen another striped horse here before) it feels as if the land is welcoming him back, so glad to see him though why it would be glad he does not know.
He has decided it is time for him to find a home. A real home, for now, a place where he does not spend every other second wondering when he can leave. But it has been too long, and he cannot decide where he should go. So he will wait here for the recruiters, and he knows they will come, because they are already here; just as vultures circle their victims before they even die, so the kingdom horses circle the unclaimed bodies of the Field. He does not complain, though, for the only thing he has decided is that he will follow the horse that convinces him the most.
What they must convince him of, he is not yet sure, but certainly he will figure it out when the time comes.
ooc; bah. not sure how i'm going to play him yet so i think i tried everything in one post >.< i'll get better, swears it!
Its spring finally, the time of year when you found new little legs tromping around. The snows dissipating and the flowers perking up between sweet green shoots. It was the time of year that he needed to stretch out his wings. He wanted to take a run, bask in the sun, and warm his body with a good run.
Its crisp this morning, dew gathering on the new shoots. Young green patches in the forest started peeking through the white blanket that had so recently had covered the world. It was time to make a trip to the feild, convenient excuse to fly off, and leave the confining borders of his home. when he spots the clearing that is muling with the specks below he starts to circle his way down. Wings stretch and bend every once in a while flapping to keep his momentum. Finally a loner is the only one in his way, so he turns slightly so that he doesn't run dirrectly into him.
The cobalt mane and tail streaming behind him. Black feathers flipping with the wind, a couple more flaps and he is able to hover over the ground. The impact is soft, and its only a few steps to gain control with his legs rather then his wings. Trotting forward he reaches the other horse in a few steps wings stretched out in a V shape from his whithers. Normally it would be a easy thing to stretch his legs and simply touch the ground no need to attempt to land, but this time, well he didn't want to appear to strange. He prefered to keep that part of him a secret.
With a shake of his mane the forlock falls in his face, Hello, I'm Phaedrus. He pauses for a breif moment then almost as a after thought the husky voice retains the flippant behavior. Of the Dale Yea never more then three words at a time with him. Standing sturdy and bold in front of the other, he faces the creature fully, after all he never had a reason to attempt to hide anything physically. And the best defense was always the best offense. So with a slight twist of his lips, he attempts to look friendly. Even if it wasn't his nature, was worth a try.
Phaedrus
DEATH GIVES US SLEEP, ETERNAL YOUTH, AND IMMORTALITY
12-09-2015, 07:40 AM (This post was last modified: 12-09-2015, 07:41 AM by Brynmor.)
Brynmor
"I will see."
The blind man has once again found the way towards the field. With very trip he made he became more sure of his path and which routes to take, learning how to recognize all the small details that would tell him he was going into the right direction. Like almost every other blind horse Brynmor’s other senses were better than just average. His hearing was sharp and his nose picked up every changing little detail. Yet it all didn’t mean that the graying male could move himself around fast and swiftly. He was bound to a slow step, needing the time to carefully measure his steps.
That is also the reason why Brynmor reaches the homeless male a little later than the other recruiter. He isn’t sure if he’s already too late, but it was worth a try right? He wanted to make himself useful for the kingdom, his blindness didn’t automatically mean he was useless. ’Don’t get your hopes up too high. You weren’t kicked out from your previous home, Brynnie.’ As the his imaginary friend’s voice spoke up in his head he had to gritted his teeth together, before he took a deep breath to release the tension and greet the two strangers. ”Hello, my name is Brynmor” he introduces himself, his not-seeing gaze moving from the one to the other.
He could only guess where they stood, but he had learned that his guesses were quite accurate as he listened to the sounds they made. Even though the spring had set in is coat was still thick like it was still mid-winter. The snow still laid as a white blanket across the plains of his home and they would probably only disappear for a short while during the hottest summer days. ”I come from the Tundra.” Just like Hurricane himself Brynmor is quite direct and next to that he hasn’t fully learned the ways of diplomacy yet. ”If it’s a home you seek, what I assume, I can offer you in Hurricane’s name a place among the Tundran brothers.”
"Through your secret."
OOC: 'Italic' is what the imaginary voice in his head says, "Colored" is what Brynmor himself says out loud
Summer was Ygritte's favorite time of year. Already the birth of babes had begun, the world was a warm embrace and the bay reveled in it.
In the soft mud, her nails sink slightly since the rains of spring had come and gone. It felt cool and refreshing on the bottom over her pink hooves and grounded her, connecting her to the fertile grounds of the field. Small groups of horses mingled among themselves and as of lately there had been an influx of new life. It delighted the young mare at the prospect of new faces to invite to the Falls.
Honey hued pools cast over the faces till she spies a white stallion among the groups of horses. At this day in age of Beqanna, one of such simple coloring seemed to be a rarity with all the colors that floated around including Ygritte herself. But now it was only naturally for the mare to pluck her way through the horses to near the stag except she is beaten by two other stallions. One with magnificent wings and the other a pleasant gray. Lobes flick to catch their voices, their offers till it was the lone mare's turn. "Welcome to Beqanna. I'm Ygritte." A small smile tugs at the edges of the pale rose hued lips. "Perhaps you would be interested in the Dazzling Waterfalls?" She leaves the inquiry open ended. You can only make a first impression once and the young woman gives him her best smile with a curt nod as to add a physical exclamation point with that pretty head of hers. "Our waters are special there and we have the best seasons in all of Beqanna." She falls quiet now as the rest had, giving the handsomely hued stallion his time to respond.
As the sun melts the land, so the hearts of horses seem to harden. Corin watches a mare trotting away with a newborn foal behind her, not looking back when the youngster falls and gets left behind. He wishes it was the first foal he'd seen abandoned in the short time he had been waiting here, but alas; he is about to approach the child, to take it and keep it with him, but the arrival of another stallion from the sky distracts him (clearly his attention span is too short to be a hero).
The other stallion approaches, and Corin turns towards him. After taking in his wings (and his blue mane and tail, though they are hardly exciting to a striped stallion), when the other stallion – Phaedrus – speaks, Corin lazily turns to reply, but is cut short by the arrival of another. This one seems different, positions himself carefully, and when his gaze falls upon Corin, the striped stallion can see that the other's eyes can't see. He has to catch himself before he nods at the newcomer in greeting, and instead utters a simple “Hello”.
A third approaches now, a bay filly with light pink points, and he welcomes the female company. He is not a player, not good with his words or with women, but he enjoys their company, and it is nice to break up this group of males, for now. She, like the others, introduces herself and her home, and after a quick glance to ensure no-one else is sneaking over, Corin addresses all three. “Hello, Phaedrus, Brynmor, Ygritte. I am Corin.” He cocks his head, looking at each horse in turn, pretending he is contemplating who to follow when he is actually trying to work out what to say next. “What is so special about each of your homes? Why do you enjoy being there?” He asks next, watching carefully to see what the replies are. He knows a little about the kingdoms – enough to be able to find many, especially those his parents spent time in – but kingdom life, that he has not yet experienced. He wants somewhere that feels like a home, not just somewhere to serve. What each horse says about their own kingdom is likely to be enough to decide for Corin.
He nods as each approachs giving them all their space. Realizing that his wings are stretched out he quickly folds them tucking them tight to his sides. He wasn't really interested in making a scene nor harming others simply attempting to create more activity in their kingdoms. So carefully he sidesteps giving more space, and watching to make sure that his wings dont accidently hit someone.
He pauses waiting patiently for the others to say their piece. This isn't his expertise but there seemed to be no one else up for the job as of late. He wanted to be a devoted member to his kingdom, wanted to prove his worth, he had been patroling the borders along with a mock that he had just accepted, now he was out in the feild recruiting. Even as he wouldn't say much nor would he likely be one to recieve the grace of acceptance worth a shot anyways. He could use the practice as it is.
Finally the stallion replies to them all, the others present having much more elequence and determination then himself. Make their speaches. Finally he states. Nothing is special. He pauses not sure how to continue, probably making a fool of himself. Home is home. He bites his lip a little sheepish. Honestly it wasn't about how amazing a place is; it is about If liked will be enjoyable. His tail swishes and he stomps his hoof in a little bit of frustration towards himeslf. If only he could be better at talking.
Phaedrus
DEATH GIVES US SLEEP, ETERNAL YOUTH, AND IMMORTALITY
He can hear her coming, the soft sound of hooves that lightly touch grass. His nose tells him her gender, female, yet he cannot see the smile upon her lips as her sweet voice greets them. Brynmor turns his head in her direction, eyes staring off in the distance as he slightly dips his head. He is never sure if he is looking in the right direction, but at least he tries. That not all his attempts to cast is blind gaze in the right way doesn’t really matter.
When the other recruiting male sidesteps to make more space the graying male is left somewhat confused. Not knowing what is exactly happening or why Phaedrus suddenly moved, he backs away a few steps, head held a little higher and ears focussed to pick up all small sounds. ’Calm down, Bryn, you’re causing a scene. There’s nothing happening’ the voice in his head speaks up, even humouring him a little, but nothing too bad. It does cause Brynmor to snort as he tensely focusses on the three horses around him, trying understand why Phaedrus moved in the first place.
It is only when Corin speaks up, to introduce himself and ask them to tell something about their homes, that Brynnor realises that nothing is wrong. Tension flows away, as he silently mutters something to himself, while he listens to Phaedrus answer first. ”Phaedrus is right, home is home, wherever that might be for you” he replies and then pauses for a moment, his gaze moving slowly in an attempt to look at the homeless man. ”To me the Tundra is home, because they were willing to give a blind man purpose, where no other seemed to want to have me.”’Oh Brynnie, we both know that isn’t true. Yes, we got kicked out from that dreadful kingdom first, but you were send to the Tundra for that little task.’ Gritting his teeth Brynmor tries to ignore the imaginary voice, tossing his head in the air a little, in a silent and hopefully not noticed attempt to release some of the frustration.
Brynmor turns into the direction of the mare, ears pointing forward, as to move the speaking turn to her.
He isn't sure what sort of answers he expects, but he is sure that it wasn't this. Home is home; a true statement, of course, but perhaps it is his lack of a home which lets him brush past this without a second thought. He still thinks of home as being somewhere amazing and special, the only place where one might feel complete. One day, perhaps, he will realise that a home can only do so much for happiness, but for now he wants to believe that a home – a kingdom home, where he has a sense of purpose – is the only thing missing from his life.
He looks over the two stallions and cocks his head. What Brynmor says about purpose grabs Corin's attention, and he nods towards the blind man, before realising how stupid that must appear. “Thank you both,” he speaks, finally, smiling at Phaedrus as he takes the slightest step towards the other stallion. “I'm really glad you came here, but I think I've made a decision. Brynmor, if you'll have me, I will follow you to the Tundra.” He thanks Phaedrus again, then turns to the blind horse. “Lead the way.”
Finally, he has a home.
(not the best but I wanted to get something up for you guys :') I'll post in the Tundra today/tomorrow. Thanks both!)
Ygritte