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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    plain as day • open
    #1
    The wind was cool here, he liked it. He’d come from a much warmer region where a short gallop built up a thick lather, it wasn’t ideal. This place was much more amenable. The land was so lush, in fact, that he was going to have to watch the temptation to over eat and end up some grass bloated heffer - which certainly would impede on his good looks. Neck arched and head held in place, Firetrap huffed heavily and set out to a nice empty part of the plains. It wasn’t that he didn’t like other horses, oh no, definitely not that. It was more that the stallion didn’t quite fit in with the other colts - normally that was. 

    He got himself into a lot of trouble because of it, but what else could he do? He wasn’t going to fight his disposition. He would just … keep shifting herds until he found  the right place where the other stallions didn’t mind seeing him appreciating them. The other issue came when he, naturally, got his fair share of attention from the mares and some of the stallions were less than keen to see that. Another stallion puffing up on their turf? Never ideal. The girls always seemed quite keen on him. Yes, he was sans horns or wings or any of that extra, showy regalia, but he was handsome and not to mention that he had a sort of swagger the other stallions didn’t. The problem came when he got attention from the other stallions - or, more specifically, when they mistook the blond, and rather prissy looking stallion for a mare. That usually raised an issue. He was confident to boot, there was no second guessing of his own status.  He was young, single and strong enough to handle his own if he needed to. Sure he was no super stallion, but he knew enough to get by and keep himself from getting fatally wounded (so far at least, and Firetrap would call that a success).

    The chestnut flicked his tail and found himself a nice, vacant patch of ground where he wasn’t ‘intruding’ on anything in particular and began to graze. He may have had his attention on the grass, but he could hear enough to know if anyone - mare or stallion were approaching. 
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    #2
    The water in the creek is cold on her pale legs, but Djinni enjoys the sensation. She's spent the last few hours on the outskirts of the Deserts and even though the yellow sun is no longer beating down on her back it still feels good to cool down for a moment. She's been gathering her courage for days now, and yet still did not have enough to cross the boarder into the kingdom. She was born there and yet she feels like a stranger whenever she stands at the edge of the kingdom.

    In the Field though, she feels comfortable. She is not a stranger to the cool green slopes; she often lingers here - or in the meadow - looking for something. Usually the something ends up being Walter, but today she has searched and found no palomino stallion. She has been thinking of him though, and so she resembles him: a pale yellow body with a mane and tail as white as the sky. Her shape remains her own, small and svelte rather than tall and imposing like her friend's, and she is a rather pretty thing with her golden earnings and bracelets on white-stockinging legs.

    In search of today's 'something', Djinni looks over the inhabitants of the Field with her curious amber gaze. It seems to be a normal day; there are several lone mares, a handful or herd stallions and the usual plethora of kingdom recruiters. Only one catches her eye, a shapely red creature who from a distance (and downwind) she assumes is a mare. The other horse's bright coloring intrigues her, and so for no other reason than that she leaves the cool creek and heads up the hill toward the stranger.

    "Hello there!" she calls out in a friendly manner when she is near enough to be heard. She is smiling, and the expression warms her brown eyes in a way that is most certainly genuine. Closer now she can see that the other horse is a stallion rather than a mare (not that Djinni minds; she's never struggled with a preference the way others do). "What brings you to the Field today?" She asks curiously. While there is a chance that he is a native to Beqanna, she cannot help but harbor the hope that he is from the Elsewheres and has some fantastic story of how he came here. Djinni has always loved fantastic stories.
    D J I N N I
    genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster
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