[private] Out of touch, are we out of time? - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Forest (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=73) +---- Thread: [private] Out of touch, are we out of time? (/showthread.php?tid=30367) |
Out of touch, are we out of time? - Fyr - 10-04-2021 I am Heaven sent, don't you dare forget Fyr was well acquainted with death but he had never seen the ugliness of it in person. The body without its soul, the empty shell left behind when the soul merged into the otherworld. He had looked upon the face of the jaguar mare (spotted like him, a jolting awareness of his own mortality, an out of body reminder that so many of them were connected in ways they didn’t realize) and she had looked like she was sleeping despite the savage wounds along her russet body. Behind him had stood the Prince and his unicorn sister, along with a small group of others. Some who cared, some who were simply nosy. She had been carefully moved on a small bed of flowers arranged on the cliffs over the sea, a peaceful place that matches the serenity of her expression in death. It was a heavy burden to place on a boy as young as he but the jaguar colt had lost his innocence quickly after birth. The request to help was not one he shied from, already keeping a painful secret from the black and gold stallion with the soul of his daughter that he had befriended. He hadn’t gotten to know Tantalize well in the few months she had lived in the Pampas but she had always been kind to him in passing. And the familiarity…. There was nothing in him, not even the darkness, that wanted to say no. He had swallowed hard as he looked at the dried blood on the fallen mare, the crumpled wings, the marks of assault. And then, solemnly, he closes his eyes as the mare and her small pyre of blooms erupt into flames. A fitting goodbye for a warrior Queen. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Melancholy fell over the flowered hills as its ruler spent more time near the sea and less time amongst his court. The air is weighted, as if the land itself recognizes the growing loss of it’s overseer, and he wonders if that is just another magical way the dark Fae is connected to the earth or has to do with death itself. Regardless, he feels smothered, and so he makes for the inviting coolness of the forest. It’s not just to escape, the reason he comes here. His conversation with his mother still presses on his brain. “He could be your father.” She had said when he had mentioned his random encounter with the golden stallion that looked quite similar to himself. Aela was usually right in most things. She was probably right in this as well. Still, his young heart was wary of asking. It doesn’t keep him from wanting to see him though. Perhaps it was the death of the mare who shared his spots, perhaps it was the stony silence emanating from her son, or maybe it was a mix of all of the above as well as curiosity that spurs him into the action of searching the dark woods for Firion. fyr @firion RE: Out of touch, are we out of time? - firion - 10-06-2021 FIRION so as our grief falls flat and hollow upon a billion blooded seas RE: Out of touch, are we out of time? - Fyr - 10-07-2021 I am Heaven sent, don't you dare forget He had almost given up his search when there is a whisper of shadows. The darkness writhes and Firion appears abruptly before him. Both are startled by the appearance of the other and flames erupt around him (and ripple down his spine) before he realizes his own foolishness and quickly puts them out, leaving just flickers of embarrassment along his backside. The stallion speaks and Fyr glances down at the forest floor with his peculiar yellow eyes, unable to ignore the fact that they both glow golden where the moonlight manages to filter through the thick canopy. It doesn’t take him long to realize that something is different about Firion. It starts with his voice, the raw grit to it, that brings his gaze back up quickly. “I was looking for you.” The yearling colt admits solemnly, searching the other’s face and finding something recognizable there. Something to do with his eyes or the tightness around his mouth… It reminded him of the Prince’s hard pressed grimace as the mare erupted into flames. It reminded him of Falter and the strain in her words when she spoke about her missing father. Grief was always walking behind Death’s coattails, an early lesson he had learned when he had summoned the soul of the newborn dead girl. Where death had been, grief was quick to follow. He hesitates for a moment, sending new flames to scorch along his vertebrae, as he gathers his courage. Firion was still very much a stranger to him but he cannot help the sudden need to connect to the man, to let him know he recognized what the adult was struggling to contain. That he wanted to understand it. Did he also know the jaguar mare? Or was it something else equally as terrible? One step, then another as he drifts closer to him before he presses his glowing muzzle to the other’s neck, extending his own as far as he can reach. He lingers there for a moment, barely daring to draw in a breath, before looking up at his sire with those strange feral eyes. No words come to him but sometimes words aren't needed at all. Another lesson he was learning when it came to death and it's favorite companion. fyr @firion RE: Out of touch, are we out of time? - firion - 10-17-2021 FIRION so as our grief falls flat and hollow upon a billion blooded seas |