02-22-2018, 10:33 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
She’s right – there are those patrolling the borders of the island Kingdom. Brennen is watching over the humid islands, wings allowing him to keep an eye on the smaller chain islands at the same time he watches the main land, and he misses her arrival. One flyover his Queen is alone, wandering the sands, and the next there is a mare standing there, and Krone is approaching the stranger at a trot. He might have kept his distance but a keen sense for what is going on around him tells Brennen that her children are not too far away, and the close attention he has been paying to his compatriots from a distance reminds him that Krone has seemed unusually tired of late; these two things added to the winged horses’ sudden and suspicious appearance (he should have seen her flying or swimming on his last glance) has him wheeling down to the sand to land, quite gracefully for his size and the size of his wings, beside his Queen even as she is introducing herself to the stranger.
He gives the brown-and-green mare a polite nod as he folds his wings and turns to look at the stranger, a polite, vague, and relatively fake half-smile already in place to offer his own greeting, but he doesn’t speak right away, instead letting his eyes roam the mare’s face and body, a sense of familiarity warring with the knowledge that she should be a stranger; his amber gaze lingers on the gold decorations in her ears for a long, silent moment and he thinks he knows her identity. Whoops. Perhaps it would be better, if she is who he thinks he is, if he had stayed far away on the other side of Ischia while a diplomatic meeting was held. He isn’t sure how Nayl or Djinni feel about his inability to force himself to stay in Nerine, but he will always be grateful for Djinni having been the one to restore him his wings, when first their powers were taken from them, and to Nerine in general for being a port in the storm when he first missed his Tundra so fiercely.
And truly, he had tried to love it. He certainly admired the women who ran it – but just as he would never have been able to serve the Jungle, he was not able to tie himself to Nerine forever.
In the end, Brennen doesn’t ask her name or offer his own; he suspects she knows him, and if he is wrong, then a stranger will ask. Instead he stays a half-step behind Krone in deference to her, but clearly protective of his Queen in light of the arrival of what may well be a dangerous stranger, and waits.
He gives the brown-and-green mare a polite nod as he folds his wings and turns to look at the stranger, a polite, vague, and relatively fake half-smile already in place to offer his own greeting, but he doesn’t speak right away, instead letting his eyes roam the mare’s face and body, a sense of familiarity warring with the knowledge that she should be a stranger; his amber gaze lingers on the gold decorations in her ears for a long, silent moment and he thinks he knows her identity. Whoops. Perhaps it would be better, if she is who he thinks he is, if he had stayed far away on the other side of Ischia while a diplomatic meeting was held. He isn’t sure how Nayl or Djinni feel about his inability to force himself to stay in Nerine, but he will always be grateful for Djinni having been the one to restore him his wings, when first their powers were taken from them, and to Nerine in general for being a port in the storm when he first missed his Tundra so fiercely.
And truly, he had tried to love it. He certainly admired the women who ran it – but just as he would never have been able to serve the Jungle, he was not able to tie himself to Nerine forever.
In the end, Brennen doesn’t ask her name or offer his own; he suspects she knows him, and if he is wrong, then a stranger will ask. Instead he stays a half-step behind Krone in deference to her, but clearly protective of his Queen in light of the arrival of what may well be a dangerous stranger, and waits.
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN