"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
02-13-2016, 11:46 PM (This post was last modified: 02-13-2016, 11:46 PM by demian.)
This was the way the night had cashed in. Choices had been made and things happened, and here we were. It was sad, and funny. My life was made of this. Stuff like this.
It's been such a long time since he's done this. Since he's led a new face back to the kingdom that was so deeply his home. It was nice this feeling of success that came with this trip. As they walked along the large pathway towards the Valley he told the mare of the tall pines trees, the dark blue waters that mimicked dark sapphires with white crested waves against the shoreline. How the mountaintops were always covered in snow and the sides were decorated a beautiful variety of grays as they popped up out of the trees in the distance.
He talks forever it seems and then he tells her of the wolves, the Valleys protectors, as they came to a stop at a line of pines. Quickly they shot towards the sky towering tall over the pair and with a smile quirking at the edges of his lips he looked up towards the tops allowing the warm sun to shine across his face before turning his head back towards the mare as though he were turning to look at her.
"This is where we enter." Infront of them was a small opening in the thickly placed together trees and with a deep breath he turned his head and then stepped forward, disappearing into the forest that decorated the outer most edges of the kingdom. He stops a few feet in, waiting for her patiently with a soft smile on his face and when she reaches him he continues forward.
"The Valley has quite a reputation Iona. It has been a strong force for many generations and it has always taken very good care of it's members." At this point he's not just referring to his fellow members but the kingdom itself. The goddess of the Valley and it's magic had always made sure to take care of it's most loyal. "We also occasionally have others that are on our side as well more so than than rest."
"We are currently allied with another kingdom, the Chamber. It's queen's name is Straia. Those Raven's you seen above us..." he pauses for a moment, allowing her to look into the trees and spot the small black birds sitting in twos or threes among the branches. "They belong to her and they carry the comings and goings to her. She knows of all of us here in the Valley and we willingly allow it as she means us no harm."
Slowly he leads her into the clearing that sat at the center of the valley where the sun shone softly through the leaves causing a soft golden and green glow against the trunks of the trees and the grass that spread out across the small meadow. "There are a few others here right now. But we are working on building our numbers." He smiles a bit apologetically now. "So it may seem a bit lonely for a bit but don't feel like your imposing. We welcome the company."
The statement is genuine. He knows he and Rhonan wouldn't mind her following them about for a while. "One of the faces you'll most likely run into is Rhonan. He is my closest friend at the moment, and our fellow kingdom member. He is a bit different... But he is most interesting. I think you'll like him."
Coming to a stop he smiles back at the mare. "Welcome, Iona. To the Valley."
Iona felt a bit rude that she had asked a number of questions during the time that she was traveling with the stallion, but didn't exactly want silence to be hanging around the entire time, and before she knew it, the two had become enveloped in deep conversation about what the Valley was like.
In truth, the chocolate flaxen mare was a bit excited to see this new place. Since arriving in this land some time ago, she didn't really have a strong desire to see any of it. The reason for this, in the beginning, was simply because she'd wanted to go someplace quiet, and an inner gut feeling told her a majority of the land wouldn't provide that.
So eventually she had settled in the field, where she and Demian had met, and while stallions and other cliques of mares roamed the area, it wasn't enough to deter her from enjoying the peace and quiet that did exist there.
Distantly thinking she'd like to return again one day to see it, the mare once more focused her attention back on Demian, wanting to hear more of what he had to say. They'd been discussing the Valley, as they had quite a lot, but a new detail came up that hadn't before.
There were... wolves here? The thought unnerved Iona to a great deal, but she didn't say anything. Unknown to Demian, the mare had an unpleasant experience with those predators when she was a yearling. It was not too long after she'd left her home herd; she'd been resting in a glenn one rainy night, under protection of some trees whose branches were so tightly packed together that they shielded her from the rain.
The wolves, having caught sight of her, had given chase, the mare running for her live to escape them. She'd ended up slipping and falling, luckily ending up with nothing more than a sprained fetlock.
Problem was, even though she was away from her home herd, she'd still been in territory familiar to her. After the chase, she'd wound up in unfamiliar landscape, unsure of how to get back home. She'd partially blamed wolves for this unfortunate mishap, and while she had since gotten over such an incident, an inner fear still existed.
As it should with all prey animals after all; an animal's sense of danger was its most powerful inbred instinct, especially for an animal like the horse.
The fact that these wolves were 'protectors' seemed to ease her fears a bit, but not completely. As a wall of pine trees approached them, Iona inhaled their scent, and it delighted her. It was something she'd never smelled before, but it was quite nice. She decided that if there was one plus to living her, it was the nice forest landscape.
Hearing Demian address her, Iona glanced over at him, her ears twitching as she took in the stallion's words. He explained of how this was the entrance to their land, and silently walked in before stopping to wait for her.
Deciding she shouldn't keep him for long, Iona began to follow, hesitating a bit as she thought of the wolves. However, she couldn't sense any nearby, and so stepped in after Demian, smiling when she reached his side once again.
As the duo began to walk toward the inner part of the kingdom, Demian once again addressed her. Iona listened intently, glad to hear that the inhabitants of this kingdom seemed nice and caring for one another. That was an important factor for the chocolate flaxen mare.
While she didn't see it happening anytime soon, Iona knew that, should she had foals of her own one day, that she would want a nice place for them to grow in. No place was perfect, she reminded herself, but this kingdom, the Valley, seemed like a nice place to raise the little ones.
Iona's gaze shifted up as Demian spoke of the birds - the Ravens - and of how they belonged to an ally kingdom. The thought of the winged beasts watching her unnerved Iona a bit; she didn't much like the thought of being watched to begin with, but it wasn't like she could say anything against it.
The duo spoke once more, this time of a friend of Demian's named Rhonan, and Iona was now involved in the conversation to a point where she wasn't paying much attention to what was around her. It was only when Demian stopped and verbally welcomed her to the Valley that Iona's eyes paraded over the landscape, a gasp escaping her as she took it all in.
They were a good distance into a clearing of some sort, pine trees surrounding it on all sides. The sun shown down at such an angle that she leaves of the trees appeared to reflect like precious gems, the emerald, if Iona remembered the term correctly from where she'd heard it years ago.
The grass rippled like the ocean waves, and in the distance, Iona thought she spotted a body of water, but from here, couldn't quite tell if it was a lake, which more than likely it could be, with the size of this clearing, of a great pond, essentially a smaller version of a lake.
The only words Iona could put together in a coherent sentence came out as she spoke, moreso just in general rather than to Demian himself, "It's beautiful."
He leads new faces back to the Valley all the time. The trick, it turns out, is not getting them to agree to come. It’s getting them to stay. He’s not all that sorry about most of them, though he hopes Ana reappears soon. He likes her blunt nature, likes playing in the shadows with her. He doesn’t like having to eat bunnies to please her quite so much, but thankfully she didn’t force that one on him too often. It’s not quite as unpleasant as it sounds, but still, he does generally prefer grass.
A shadow snake comes slithering out the trees, finding Rhonan with a hiss before disappearing through the grass again in the direction of Demian and a newcomer. Not that Rhonan has any idea where the snake is sending him, or that Demian has brought a recruit to the Valley. All he knows is he’s supposed to follow, and so he does.
It’s not like there’s anything better to do.
He hears voices first, before they come into view. Snippets of the conversation float his way, including his name, along with the words friends and different. He sighs, rolling his eyes a bit dramatically, now entirely in their view. “I can still speak for myself, thank you,” he says, and though he sounds mostly serious, there is a slight note of something lighthearted in his reprimand. He doesn’t really mind Demian being Demian, after all. But of course, that’s not going to stop Rhonan from being Rhonan.
Like usual, Rhonan is wearing his coat of shadows. It’s near impossible to tell that his black coat isn’t a coat at all, but rather the darkness drawn tightly around him. He really doesn’t like being pretty pretty princess colored. Black has always suited him better, and now, he can make himself look like nothing remarkable at all. Though the orange ring in his eyes is still visible against his otherwise muddy brown irises. That orange ring is the only thing that marks him as Covet’s son. And not that that makes him special in any way, but it’s the only thing he’s ever had of his father. And so he keeps it.
“Rhonan,” he offers, nodding slightly to the mare that Demian’s brought back. Though what else he’s doing here, he has no idea. The snake must have just wanted him to know there’s a new recruit. Which to be fair, in the Valley, is a pretty eventful day. There wasn’t much else going on around here, after all.
If Demian wished to say something in response to Iona's words, before he so could, a new voice cut into the conversation. Iona turned to face the direction it had come from, spotting what appeared to be a black stallion heading in her direction. She was momentarily taken aback by the shining color of his healthy coat, though couldn't help but feel something was off here.
Brushing it to the side, attributing it to her uneasiness about the wolves in the area, Iona nodded to the stallion as he introduced himself, her flaxen mane falling over her neck and face as she bowed her head.
"Hello Rhonan. It is nice to meet you. I'm Iona, and I must say, this is a very nice home that you have here."
Even if it wasn't his kingdom, he still lived here, and Iona felt the need to express her joy at being in such a beautiful land. Never before had she seen anything of this magnitude before, and was quite happy that she had decided to follow Demian to check it out.
She found herself staring at Rhonan's black coat, and the orange ring in his eyes - yet another strange, but not startling feature - a moment too long before she averted her eyes, not wanting to see strange in the eyes of either stallion while she waited patiently for her turn to speak again.
This was the way the night had cashed in. Choices had been made and things happened, and here we were. It was sad, and funny. My life was made of this. Stuff like this.
"It is quite lovely, yes." He smiles softly, remembering how the pine trees towered and the dark greens, blues and grays danced across the kingdom. "I wish I could still see it sometimes. But I am still able to remember almost everything in my mind." He remembers what it was like when he first saw the Valley. He knew how it's forested landscape full of pines and dark yet bright colors could mesmerize a first timer.
It was then Rhonan's voice chases the memories away and draws him back to reality. His head snaps towards Rhonan when his mostly reprimanding tone slips through the silence that surrounded the pair and chuckles softly. "Ah, that is quite true Rhonan, but you know me. I can't always help myself." He smiles almost playfully and had he been able to see the way Rhonan had rolled his eyes while making his approach he would have been laughing with amusement by now.
Rhonan had been one of the only ones that had stuck with the Valley when it died along with himself and through it the pair had somehow created an odd sort of friendship between them. With a small grin Demian found himself turning his face in Rhonan's direction. "Anyway I think you enjoy getting to reprimand me." He smirks then, his tone one of a teasing nature that would be shared between two best friends that were spending time joking together.
He grows quiet as Iona and Rhonan introduce themselves, allowing them to spend time chatting amongst eachother. He knows how important it is for everyone to get along and he didn't mind the break in conversation. For now he stood there, relaxing in the warmth of the sun shining through the leaves.
“It’s shadowy,” he says in response to Iona. It’s a strange response, if you are anyone but Rhonan. To Rhonan, shadows are beautiful. They are why he chose this place (also because this was his father’s home, but the jerk was dead before Rhonan was even born, so he doesn’t talk about all that). He’ll just say it’s the shadows. And mostly, it is.
He notices the way she looks at his coat, and it doesn’t really bother him. Not that staring, because he’s notorious for staring too long or having any idea that it might actually be rude to stare. But he is rather impressed that the girl even noticed. Most just assume he’s black, and move on. But she’s noticed something, he thinks, and so he decided to admit to the truth. Even though he hate the truth. He’s a pretty pretty princess beneath his shadow coat.
He lets the shadows fall away though, and they pool at his feet. His coat is, sadly, gold and white. He looks exactly like his mother. Also dead. And he’s not really that sad about that either. She was fine, but he didn’t have some close relationship with her. His sister was a different story, but not his Mom. He pulls the shadows back up around him, and they hover there like a blanket for a moment before he tucks them tightly around himself, looking very much like a plain black horse again.
“You know, I really do. Now stand still.” He says, turning his attention to Demian, and taking the opportunity to reprimand his friend again. There’s a tiny hint of amusement in his voice, but as usual, mostly Rhonan is pretty deadpan. He has literally NO idea if this will work, but he tries to imagine what Demian sees, and then begins to shape a wall of black into the shapes of the area within eyesight. He carves Iona out of a darker shadow, and then himself, trying to lighten and darken as best he can. This may all be in his head, but maybe he’s managed to channel Demian’s darkness. Because he can understand what Demian sees (Rhonan’s been to the end of the world and all, and it’s damn dark there). And he understands shadows.
"That may be so, but who says the darkness can't be beautiful too? Night skies filled with stars are wonderful to look at," she added with a smile, her features softening as she gazed at the stallion.
A few moments went by before he did something unexpected. Iona had thought there was something different, but never did she expect this. The shadowy coloring of Rhonan's coat fell away, revealing a striking palomino painted coat. Iona found herself drawing in a breath, trying hard not to stare. That coloring was very striking, and she thought it did make him look quite handsome.
But, of course, being her shy self, she would never admit that out loud.
Not saying anything as Rhonan drew the shadows back to give him his black coating once more, the flaxen mare smiled at the antics the two stallions displayed with one another. A small chuckle slipped past her, and the mare looked up at the sky, at the trees surrounding her, taken aback by nature's beauty.
