"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
"Her head is a living forest full of song birds..."
It was the voices that kept her up at night.
Through the turmoil, rage, and deception, it had always been the voices. They were crawling up her flesh and out her ears, twisting around her neck and strangling her to death. The voices were what caught up to her. Among the chaotic spin of life around her, it had always been the voices, yet it was only now that someone had taken action. It had started out with a simple gesture, a nip here and there upon the flank of the young mare. Maybe a shove or two at the creek when she went to drink, yet with every push and shove came the bitterness. A herd that was meant to love her, care for her, and even fight for her was the one pushing her over the edge of the cliff just waiting to see her fall. The gestures escalated into what seemed like a treacherous battle, leaving her bloodied and broken upon a field with no one. Yet with the loneliness, she always found her way back to the herd that no longer gave a crap about the young mare. Sage was the past.
And she soon found that out.
After what seemed like ages, the mare was finally pushed away from what she had called daily life. The stallion had enough of the mare and her supposed 'crazy' antics. She spoke to herself; therefore, according to her herd, she wasn't fit for them. They were rulers of the desert. They didn't need her. They didn't want her. So after being beaten, bitten, and scarred, Saige finally understood the message. She wasn't welcomed there. Nothing but the best for her past herd, so she ran. After days of being driven into the ground like the sand under their hooves, she ran. Her body weak, her stomach empty, she ran. Away from her family. Away from her herd. And away from her home. Only that she anticipated the worst.
You're not worthy to stay with them, Saige. The voices were there, though; keeping the young mare company along the way as she dragged herself over what seemed like ruins. Her flank, along with bits and pieces of her body, was covered with dried blood, the dark red standing out upon her cremello coat. Her head shook, a snort coming from her nose as she tried to direct her attention away from anything. She wasn't ready for this. For any of this. She wasn't sure what to do. Whether it was the sun radiating upon her body, or the grumbling of her stomach, she wasn't ready for any of what was to come and she knew that. You'll never be ready. She bit at the air, shaking her head more as she stomped in anger, the voices taunting her once again. At the moment, she was ready to reply out loud. She was ready to lash out at nothing, to seek out the voices and bite the hides of the ones who dared to taunt her, yet that is what got her into this mess in the first place. Saige knew that it was quite possible nobody would take her into their herd. She was, dared she say it, defected. She knew that others didn't take kindly to those who were different, especially in an open setting where the weak were useless. She wanted nothing but to go back to her own herd, but there was nothing left for her there. Nothing but bitter faces and teeth ready to lash out upon her thin body.
So she went on, her eyes glancing over the green grass and the willowy trees, as her nimble legs seemed almost alien-like out in the different scene. Her breed wasn't used to this, yet she would have to be now. And she knew this clearly as she continued on her way. Finally she dipped her head, gathering a small bit of grass within her mouth before chewing lightly, her hooves softly dragging over the greenery as she munched.
No one will take you, Saige. You're delusional, dearie.
Cackles rose within her head. The voices mocking her loudly, taking over her sense of hearing. Her hooves kicked at the moment, her head shaking wildly before she glanced up at the open. She silently wished for something more. Something to better herself, yet her wishes were never answered.
He was not good at this. Actually, he was terrible at this. He had run amok for so long, enjoying his childish, bachelor life, that he simply did not know how to be an adult. He didn’t feel any allure from the kingdoms, quite opposite his regal ancestors, and didn’t understand how to run a herd either. Yet, after so many years, he knew that custom dictated he choose one or the other, and the latter seemed more enticing.
However, his batting average for mares was incredible. Incredibly bad.
Apparently he was quite repulsive.
Thus, he had no idea why he ventured to the field again. Perhaps he was a glutton for rejection. He had nothing special to offer – no traits to grant, like the kingdoms, nor a handsome stud with a vibrant herd, like the other males. Yet, he had found quite a fun friend in one trek, and he supposed, that was enough encouragement to push him back in. He rather liked friends.
But unfortunately, it seemed that the vast majority of horses here were already engrossed in conversations, and he steered clearly out of their vicinities. The recruiters, so serious and mature, frightened him. The hot shot stallions were too intimidating as well. In fact, if he could wander invisibly, he would have. Yet, although he could easily accomplish that, he felt like it would draw more attention than he desired, and so, he found himself wandering as a normal horse instead.
Today though, the field was especially busy, much to the tobiano stallion’s disdain. Having exhausted the extent of the clearing, he was en route to disappear back into the shadows of the forest when he spied a cream shape not far from his path. She was quite lovely, he noted, knowing that it would not take much time before she’d be hounded by a swarm of eager recruiters and love-sick stallions. Yet, as he was just about to continue his retreat and place her out of mind, his gaze settled on the streaks of dark crimson that decorated her cremello coat.
His ears pricked and he gave a small snort, his curiosity growing. His gaze flew back to the comforting shadows of the forest, but he found himself diverting his path to approach her instead. He had come within a couple yards when she began to shake and kick, and he quickly stopped in response. At first, he thought it had been a warning for him to shoo, but he supposed she might have been batting at a fly instead. He tilted his head as he watched, and as soon as her movement ceased, found himself nickering to her in greeting. “Did you get it?” he asked, a small smile appearing on his lips as he spoke.
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
"Her head is a living forest full of song birds..."
You can't run, not from us.
The pain followed in waves as she heard the voices conclude what she had already thought. They were instant, continuous, and butchering her from the inside out. It was them that got her into this mess in the first place, the same thing that had erupted the ground she walked on into thousands of tiny shards. She hadn't been ready for that. Nobody could have been ready for that. Yet she didn't have to be ready to allow it to happen. She couldn't escape them, yet others could. Saige was almost certain that if she could, she would leave her presence as well. She was too much, and the elders had concluded that it would only get worse with time. The hallucinations were beginning to fall to the front more than reality was, the voices were only getting more demanding with time, and the young mare's emotions were being amplified severely. Her belief was as strong as the disease, believing that soon she will be nothing but a walking nightmare.
What do you think, Saige? Is he real?
It took her a moment to understand what the voices were talking about until she glanced around. Her pale eyes sought out the figure of a stallion, a smile on his face not far away from her and instantly her hesitation grew. Was he real? Her own thoughts were conflicted with reality and the hallucinations, making her stand still within the field only to stare at him. He seemed real. In her mind, though, everything seemed real. Her eyes shimmered as she stared at him in what seemed like utter fascination. Even though she was already three years old, she had gained a sense of innocence about the world. Everything through her eyes seemed to appear in the most mystical of ways, a gracefulness about life. Yet now, she wasn't quite sure about the world. The world she had somehow come to love was now filled with hatefulness and bitterness, a side she had never seen. But as she stared at the stallion who approached her, her outlook began to change. Is this a trick by my mind again? The question sat heavily on her ears as she stared at him. Confusion was dancing within the young mare's eyes, yet she wasn't quite sure if she should say anything.
It's always a trick, dearie; a riddle you'll never solve.
Yet then she heard his voice, and a frown coated her own. Get it? Get what?
Did you get it? Did you get us, Saige? Come on, now. Don't be shy.
The voice startled her, her feet slamming into the ground, her head snapping back, her ears falling to her head before she shook it off, her body becoming still as she gazed at the stallion. A stranger. Yet to her, the world was a stranger. Like an old friend never fully known, like a presence that was there, but was never actually there, just like her mind. Her eyes were staring at him in an uneasy gaze, her body constricting, muscles tightening dramatically before releasing. It was this everlasting movement, her body never staying still. She was flighty, that was for certain. Yet even facing a stranger, she couldn't control her urges. You never can. She flinched as if the words had hit her, yet pretended for it to be nothing. She was could at that. Pretending.
"Get what?" Her voice was a whisper, as if they were sharing a secret. A soft-spoken word between them as confusion flooded her. Yet as soon as she had spoken, she realized that he meant her thrashing. The embarrassing thrashing of her attempting to grab the voices from her head, attempting to grab something that no one else could see. Of course that's what he meant, Saige. When will you begin to understand? She shook her head, a flick of her tail coming upon her wounded side. This was a battle, and she was attempting to be a warrior. Yet she always failed. And she always will. "No, I didn't. And I never will." Her voice shared her defeat, a double meaning echoing within her quiet words as she bowed her head silently, her eyes darting to the ground before she realized that she was in the presence of a stranger again.
As his gaze met hers, he felt a rustle run through his skin. His smile quickly vanished from his lips. The way she stared at him, in silence, devoid of a smile, partially unnerved him. He wasn’t very skilled socially, but he was certainly capable enough to realize that she did not seem pleased to see him. For a moment, he debated retreating, going as far as to begin lifting a hind hoof to begin backing away, but he knew it was too late. To leave so suddenly after arrival would most certainly be rude.
So he stood in silence instead, watching her cautiously, not quite positive what to do next, when she suddenly snapped. In an instance he tensed up, his haunches gathered and ready to spring away (or disappear altogether) should she charge towards him. But luckily, she ceased her outburst again, only to have her tense gaze return. Yet, this time, he could not bring himself to break his gaze away from hers. Her gaze was entrancing, in a haunting type of way. Again he shivered slightly, suddenly feeling another chill run up his spine despite the summery weather.
But in the moment she began to speak, he felt himself blink and pull back in surprise. Her voice was soft and defeated, not quite with the ferocity or strength for which he had braced himself following her physical outbursts. And for a moment, he felt his heart opening… he wanted to embrace her and sooth her and tell her all would be ok, but in the end, he was both too timid and too fearful to do such a thing.
Instead, he could manage only a nervous response. A mere whisper, with a volume to match hers, though without conscious effort. “Why do you think that?” he asked, raising his brow curiously as he spoke. Sometimes, he was too curt for his own good. He continued to watch her warily then, but was too hesitant to depart. There was something strange about this mare. He couldn’t put his hoof on what precisely, but in a strange way, she reminded him of his other friend.
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
i'm breaking out, escaping now;
feeling my faith erode
He's onto you, Saige. Can't you hear? He knows you're insane.
She winced, her head pulling down, her feet shuffling once again in a nervous habit. She didn't think he would notice, but what did she expect when she had thrashed about and made a fool of herself? A sigh passed her tired lips, her eyes darting into the trees. The heat had come, just like this stallion. And whether or not he would banish her or hurt her because she was mad was unclear as of right now. But she hoped neither was true. Not now. Not today. Not when she had come so far.
So instead of focusing on his question right now, she stared at him once more, but not in the same way. Her eyes were searching. Searching for what? A clue that she could hold against him, something that she could take to the grave with her if he so called 'harmed' her. But nothing was seen except for his coat. A coat that she wasn't familiar with, as in her herd, they had almost all looked the same. The same colours at least. But he was different, special almost. And in some way, that eased her voices. For only just a moment. Walk away, Saige. He's dangerous. Walk away. But she didn't. For once in her life, she didn't listen to the rueful voices clogging up her thoughts. She only stood there, her knees shaking and her hips tight in order to hold herself upright. As the fatigue was wearing on her, just like the dry blood that she had somehow forgotten within that moment. Just like his question.
"You can't get what can't be seen." Her words weren't really words, just a breeze upon her lips and floating through the air to meet him. In one spectrum, she hoped he had heard them, yet on another, she hoped it was blown into the breeze, just like her thoughts. Another sigh followed suit, but she tried to hold it back once more. Sighing never fixed her problems, and she was sure it wouldn't today either. Her already twisted ears flickered back and forth, searching for something, listening for something father than what she had within her head, yet she heard nothing. Just like always, she heard nothing.
"You're name," A sudden thought popped upon her lips, just as fast as it had entered her head. Her eyes darted toward him quickly, her body becoming silent as she stared before she realized there was no question to her soft-spoken whisper. "What is your name?" She asked quickly, quietly, afraid of the answer. For what reason? She wasn't sure. But she needed to know just like she needed to breathe. Why?
He continued to watch her as she stared at him, and he could feel his confusion beginning to mount. She was a mysterious one, he could easily admit, oblivious to her internal struggles. He wanted to read her, to understand her thoughts, but could find no answer in her gaze. Instead, he blinked and diverted his own gaze, relinquishing the staring contest victory to her as he eyed up the caked blood on her coat instead.
But she then spoke again and his gaze snapped back to meet her’s. He pondered for a moment, curious what invisible demons were haunting her. Perhaps some unhappy past she was escaping from? “Why not?” he found himself asking, his voice no longer the whisper of before but instead, direct and enunciated. He paused for a moment, watching her as she sighed, before he continued. “You can’t see love, but you can get loved. You can’t see hate, but you can get hated.” He paused, a small grin beginning to peek out from the tips of his lips. “And you can’t see confusion, but you can definitely get confused.”
Proud of himself like the dork he was, he stood with an amused grin. But the smile did not last long, for she spoke again, requesting his name. Yet, he realized her request was more like a command, and that confused him further. “Clark,” he offered, his intonation more suggestive of a question than a direct answer. “What’s yours?”
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
