"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
The horses of the field seemed to stir as the sun begins his descent. The hot months of summer burned the coats of the pale ones and suffocated the dark ones. Oona fell somewhere in between the spectrum of hues that spread over Beqanna. The palest dust of rose across a dappled gray coat, like the faded lipstick on the collar of a lover. Once vivid and fresh and new but now faded with time but there was always a fondness, a twinge of excitement when your eyes fall upon it. An association with another time or place, possibly forbidden.
When she is simply a silhouette against a sky on fire, she moves from the security of the sparse trees to the openness of the field. The chiseled skull dipping to scent and occasionally lip at the thin blades that bowed before her. Dark pools watch once she has raised her head to see other nameless faces join the woman on the plot of earth. Acknowledgement is given mutually, exchanged almost curtly when equines moved passed the tall Hanoverian.
Lobes twitch in the direction of murmured voices (though some of those intimate conversations could be picked up if you tried). As the sky grew sleepy and the moon grew fat, little speckles of stars began to open their eyes and wink at the lives below. She can not help but smile lightly in the comfort of moonwash. The night sky wraps around them all in a delicate blanket. Bits of warm breeze tousling manes with the scent of grass and wild flowers.
There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'
His first sundown as sunrise had amazed him, intrigued him, as he had never imaged it to be this beautiful. The strange thing is that the first time he had seen it hadn’t been that long ago, although he had turned five last spring. And even though he had since seen it every day, it still did amaze Brynmor in one way or another. The sight was simply gorgeous and the colors they were created during the short period of time were even more beautiful. He could never have dreamed that his eyes would be able to capture such colors.
It is partly the reason why her silhouette against the burning sky catches his attention, and holds it. It isn’t really her beauty that allures him – although he wouldn’t be able to say she isn’t – no, instead it is the whole picture that does. Like she is part of the scene, standing there like she belongs there, and just her. Yet by the time Brynmor actually approaches her the last rays of light are almost gone. ”Hello” he greets her, formerly blind eyes curiously scanning over her form as his head tilts a little to the side. She’s tall, strong build, looking like she’s quite a mare that would be able to handle harder periods of life.
”I’m Brynmor, from the Tundra. Are you perhaps looking for a home?” Right onto business and although she isn’t a warrior that could join their ranks, he would like to have more females to accompany them in the cold lands up north. Sure there was Roan, and the other two former princesses still appeared so now and then, but they needed more strong women to bear their children and to warm their hearts during the cold winter days.
His voice reaches her not long after the sound of his hooves. Silently they shared that very sunset as Oona waits for the very last little sliver of Helios to sink into the ground before focusing on her new acquaintance. Single lobe flicking to an fro whilst one was given to him, catching the linguistics.
He is shorter than she but not by much. Her own dark eyes running in response over the stallion nearing her but his eyes are different...
They look as though they are seeing for the first time...
There is a wonderment in them that seemed to die out very early for most horses. She mentally makes a note of this.
Not much time passes after his greeting that Brynmor waits. He introduces himself and inquires of intentions in the field.
Of course the mare responds in turn to the courteous stag.
"I'm Oona. And it was a lovely sunset..."
The voice that drips from her lips is somber and spoken low. She thinks before she speaks therefore each syllable is enunciated and chosen like a delicate bouquet of flowers, beautiful and lasting only long enough to be appreciated by the listener. The mare cared not for repeating herself.
"...and yes, Brynmor. A home would be lovely." A little curl touches the edges of her lips.
The sky filled in around them with the dazzle of stars, sparkling and glinting in a cosmic embrace. The woman can not help but drink it in, distracted by the beauty of it all as her eyes wander away from the granite male for a brief moment.
There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'
He stays silent as she doesn’t instantly reply to his greeting and instead his gaze follows hers, silently watching the sun set completely. Even when the sun herself has descended completely their gazes don’t move and their lips stay sealed too. It isn’t until the last rays disappear. Darkness consumes everything around them. It isn’t something that scares Brynmor. For years the darkness had been all that he knew and therefore he feels utterly comfortable. His sight isn’t able to help him much in this darkness, but he can still see good enough to be confident to gallop around, something he absolutely didn’t before.
The graying male still lacked some muscle, but compared to the time when he had just gained his sight things it had already much improved. He had simply began to move much more, walking faster and longer than before. Yet compared to others he still wasn’t much, even though his build was quite bulky due to his heritage. But it doesn’t seem like it that that is what she is looking at. Brynmor answer’s her gaze, his head tilting a little side wards as he does so. ”It sure was” he answers, a slightly amused smile pulling on the corners of his lips.
”It’s nice to meet you, Oona.” He pauses for a moment, eyeing her silently. ”Depending on what kind of home you seek, there is a place among the warriors of the Tundra if you would desire such life. It isn’t much, as we are a brotherhood and only men join the ranks and the lands can be harsh, but it is a home” he offers her. His gaze doesn’t travel away, curious to see what expressions she will show upon her features. Her first reaction interests him, it would tell if she was open for such a life.
And under that starry sky does the woman look at the man, her gaze unwavering. She is methodical with everything she does.
Each step.
Each breath.
Each word.
She is unmoving as the mountains, and just as unencumbered. She considered this stallion's words carefully and with her own gaze she peers at him, watching his expression as well for some kind of trickery. A flinch. A flicker.
A few quiet seconds pass, enough for something to crack and surface. But there is nothing.
And so with a curt nod to her new companion, she agrees.
"Let us be off then."
There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'
