"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
He makes his way to the place called Taiga, his sense of smell, now enhanced as it had been in the days before everything fell apart and he lost his ability to shift, quite literally leading the way. Thick paws tread assertively upon the unseen ground before the at-last-once-again grizzly bear, though his pace remains a slow and careful one, developed by the years of cautious habit that had sunk into Siberian's brain. This restoration was a wonderful thing, truly, yet it left questions, worrying questions. Was he right to be doing this? The denizens of the land he had been directed to had never done anything against him, and with the Chamber gone there were no kingdom enemies to fight against. But, if he had said no, had turned down that stranger, the stranger whose voice had somehow come not from his mouth but within Siberian's own mind, he would have had to continue on in a world of darkness and invisible dangers for the rest of his existence; not a fate he looked forward to.
He can only assume he has arrived at the borders of the land the unseen magician had described to him; the air smells so much like he remembers of the Chamber that it puts an ache in his heart, and a brushing against tree trunks that he passed by seemed to indicate that they were quite wide and strong trees, indeed. There is a quiet ursine rumbling in the back of his mind, almost a purring, telling him that his alter-ego is just as pleased to be back in existence as he is to hear its primal greeting. Siberian does not issue forth a roar as he ventures further in, for only a foolish soldier would announce their presence to an unknown and uncounted enemy in such a bold fashion. One might as well cart around a giant neon sign with an arrow pointing downwards as to bellow out a challenge for all before them to hear. No, the Budyonny moves along as silently as a huge carnivore weighing hundreds of pounds and unable to see (ow, that rock was sharp...oh, there was a low-hanging branch there....) can manage. He pauses to sniff at the air, listens with the small rounded ears now atop his shaggy brown head. There is a smell, an equine one, coming towards him, growing stronger. And the gradually-less faint sound of hooves upon packed earth. He stays where he is now, facing in the correct direction, with lips curling out of the way to display a rather fearsome set of teeth.
01-01-2017, 03:10 PM (This post was last modified: 01-01-2017, 03:13 PM by Ruan.)
Ruan
He sensed the change, the darkness. His nostrils flared and piercing blue eyes whipped around toward the Forest, toward the enemy. The demon that had torn his wings from his body and placed them on himself.
He wouldn't dare come here.
There was a spark and a zip of magic, and his wings of ice came to glittering life as he launched himself forward. He didn't call out, didn't look to see if his children were clear of the site, didn't seek any aid. All he felt was the frozen darkness that had settled into his heart ever since the day his blood soaked into the forest floor and his screams shook the trees. He growled low in his chest. His heart raced, but was steady. Steady.
A display of stained fangs greeted him when he first laid eyes on the beast. It wasn't the demon, but it was as though his cruel aura still hung over the bear and gripped him in his wicked vise. They always did his bidding.
He tore through their Taiga on heavy hooves, heedless of stealth. The frosted wings at his sides pumped the air, propelling him forward, then crashed together over his head without breaking stride. White dust shattered over him like shards of glass, sticking to his coat then solidifying and growing into a thick armor of ice. Large spikes lengthened out from his breast and shoulders, aiming forward as an array of lances. Hard, glacial eyes remained locked on the threat.
He would expel this demon's minion from their home.
And then he'd find the bastard and kill him.
There was a difference in the trees this day. Reagan could sense it with the way the wind shifted—with the way the whole place smelled different. This place. It was a thing. It was real. It was potent.
It was tangent.
She moved with a grace that belied her. Carrying Twins, she had already started to show. This was the coming of her winter twins—the Saxon babies, she would call them. And yet, even in her delicate condition, she was not a woman easily trifled with. The days she saw and the children she carried reminded them all of that. She birthed lines that produced kings and queens. And now, she was among them.
And yet she would never call herself that.
Among the trees, they were family. There would always be a sweetness and a peace that wove its way between the redwoods like a blanket. So when the sky blackened and the wind shifted, of course Reagan would know the direction of a coming storm. That it would come even faster than she expected was not on her horizon—for the storm came from within her own borders.
***
She had felt him. Slow, ambling--blind. The bear’s mind was unsure. And yet, he seemed more at home for some reason. As if he belonged in that form… or was that form at heart. Like her, but different. When the crack of sound—a scream—tore through her forest, she felt in her heart that thunderous beating of Ruan running towards something—a goal (a fear)—as if he had the ability to draw upon his own power.
She did not hesitate. She took a beat forward—white snow swirling around her as she ran, her body lowering to the ground, trading hoof for paw, and grey hide for a snow white pelt. The pregnant she-wolf ran to catch up to her mate, in determination to stop his maddening tirade. When at last she was able to catch up to them both, she slid her back half behind her on the icy ground—slippery—and came to stand squarely between them, green eyes fixed on Ruan.
His unseen, unofficial "greeter" arrives on scene, all rapid breathing and furious rushing, like a whirlwind in equine form. Siberian hears an odd crackling in the air, air that is becoming colder despite his thick fur. Routine inhaling of breath through his nose causes the transformed stallion to let out a soft sound of confusion, even as he maintains his tense position facing the Taiga resident. This other horse, *he* smelled like the barely-remembered glaciers from the Budyonny's foalhood. How was that possible? The longing to see hits him again at that moment, wanting so much to know what was going on in the invisible world that surrounds him, wanting to know what magic the other stallion was performing. Unwilling to back down, still clinging to the mission he'd been sent on, Siberian keeps his face stoic, his more-or-less correctly-facing gaze steady.
He is distracted, however, when his ears and nose inform him of a second arrival, this one a female. Sort of. Lupine instead of equine, but she speaks clearly to the pair locked in their standoff positions. Was she one of his kind, a shapeshifter? Her presence left him outnumbered, though judging by her location she was not attempting to flank him, and so he does not try to maneuver himself into a more sheltered position. The female's voice is sharp, stern, a veteran commander's. He knows that sort of tone, had been conditioned long ago to respond to it. She is not Zayn, nor even was she Kimber, but Siberian is still helpless to not be influenced by her barked command. He maintains his iron stance for a moment longer, then relaxes. Thick lips come together to cover the curved ivory teeth, and no growls issue forth. The grizzly-shifter turns his head towards where the she-wolf had demanded an end to their pending battle before it began, ears still alert for any sign that the Taiga ice-horse is not so keen on olive branches.
He barreled on a collision course straight for the enemy. And then suddenly she was there before him, facing him and not the threat. He slammed his feet to the earth, retracting his magic with a snarl at her command, her obvious acceptance of the enemy in their home. What the hell was she doing?
He said nothing as he heaved in fury. He didn't need to. She would know as well as he where this bear had come from. No, she would know far more than he could with the use of her powerful magic.
Blue eyes flickered to the bear as he seemed to hesitate, then fall easily into her command. Ruan's eyes glowed with the power of his wrath and shot back to Reagan. Steam blew from his nostrils, rage burning through his blood. He'd never been so furious, and so hurt. It felt like a betrayal.
You KNOW where it comes from! You KNOW it is from HIM! he roared in his mind.
Then it felt like his heart broke, and he ran away from them, stumbling haphazard in any direction but there. He ignored any protests, if there were any. He needed to be away from here. Needed it. And despite his pain, he trusted her to handle this however she blessedly wished. Whether he liked it or not. So he ran. And ran. And wished he were wolf to howl his anger and suffering, to burn off this rage with a satisfying kill. Flesh and blood on his tongue, as it should be.
He couldn't kill the bastard that did this to him. And he couldn't kill his damned minion either.
He would never have closure.
She has not forgotten Deimos. How could she, when he has caused her aeons of heartache? Lo, Reagan knows EXACTLY what has brought the bear here.
She is no fool.
Her eyes fixated on her lover, she approaches him warily, her white coat bristling as she shimmers, stepping out of that white form and into the one of her birth. Shaking our her grey tattered hair, she wuffs to Ruan in hushed tones, her voice warm. "You are better than this, my love. Do not let the blindness of hate get in the way of opportunity. His time will come. If he had the ability to kill, he'd be here himself. Deimos deals in absolutes."
Turning back to the bear, a warm wind rushes passed her, flairing up around her and Ruan. Her emerald eyes glowed as if they are on fire, and she sees into his mind.
Something is not all of what it seems.
And so, the brown, lumbering, hairy beast returns also to the form of his birth, as Reagan has. Her eyes graze over him with a satisfied smirk on her face.
"There," she breathes. "Much less of a threat. Look upon me, bear, and tell me what it is you see. If you see something to destroy, then by all means have at me."
She waits then, turning to Ru with a knowing look, and then back at the no longer so fearsome intruder. Would the bear notice right away?
"Well, then Siberian. I am waiting. What is it that you see when you look at me?"
He feels it happening, the stripping away of the ursine protection that the blind stallion so desperately needed and clung to, and he can't resist letting out a cry of terror. Was this all a trap, then? That Deimos had never intended for anything other than to send Siberian off to die, after giving him false hope with the restoration of his shapeshifting ability? After a moment, the Budyonny raises his head up high and squares his shoulders, prepared to meet whatever comes next with a soldier's dignity. What happens next, however, rocks him on all four hooves, nearly knocking him over with the total shock that consumes him and his short-lived "do what thou wilt" philosophy. The total black that had been his world for far too long is abruptly stripped away, colors and shapes that he had only seen in his unkeepable dreams manifesting in its place. He blinks, once, twice. And then his legs can no longer hold him upright, trembling so hard as they are. His hindquarters abruptly plummet down to earth with a soft thud, and Siberian simply stares up at the gray mare, drunk on the returned beauty of the world.
Dimly, he recognizes that she somehow knows his name despite it being an unspoken fact, but he is not surprised that she would be able to learn his identity. It would be mere foal's play for someone who could force a body change and restore lost senses to another to skim a mind for that mind's name. He isn't sure how to treat this entry into his mind, but lets it pass for now, focused on the greater issues at hand. Soft, incredulous laughter escapes the stallion in response to her question. "I see everything....everything. You, the trees, the sky, the earth. And it's so beautiful. Gods, it's so beautiful. Thank you. " Tears prick at his eyes, blurring the world all over again, though thankfully doing nothing more that that, and he pivots away from the mare while still sitting upright upon the ground, giving himself the illusion of privacy as he weeps over what has been returned. Over what he had believed to be lost forever, his existence a forever world of darkness. Trying to get control of himself, he lowers his head and neck to brush his wet eyes against his foreleg.
He was crying his thanks, and Reagan could not be more pleased.
She had known all along that the treachery that had befallen the bear was not of his own making, and Reagan looked over her shoulder to where Ruan had been standing to show the solidarity of the Taiga, only to show that his presence was no more.
Reagan’s heart shattered as she knew that her wolf had once more retreated into his own—becoming one with the beast inside and seeking only the revenge of blood against the demon who had caused his scars.
Gone were the memories, and the love. Instead, in its place was a stranger that Reagan no longer knew. Her lover had retreated into a shadow of himself, and it was a path that the grey mare could not follow.
She was alone—here in the forest.
So, she took a gulp, and turned sad eyes to the bear…to Siberian, and with a kind word, she looked at him.
“You are welcome, friend. The demon who sent you here will surely be after you. Feel free to make these woods your home, with my blessing. You and yours will have my protection. Bring your children, if you wish. There is a cave at the far end of the creekbed that opens up into a small lake. Any fish of your choice is good for the taking… as well as clams, mussels, and berries. In turn… I make one request.
Protect my family.”
She blinked and looked downwards towards the ground, her thoughts on Ruan.
