The steady thud of hooves catches her attention quickly, and Wax turns her head to see a stranger moving closer. She smiles warmly, and when he stops a respectful distance away the mare close the gap between them to press her nose against his in a far warmer greeting. It is the way her family has always greeted each other, and it does not strike her as at all strange.
He does not look like she had expected, this resident of Beqanna.
Wax's mind was filled with fanciful tails of violet colored horses that trailed silver sparks, of ruby-eyes mares who could shift to badgers in the blink of an eye. This horse looks rather like any other horse, though she is delighted to see that he is not bay like her mother, father, and brother, but is something different. Not like her (all bright copper and pale flax) but something entirely new.
She does not have enough time to take in much more than his color and name when she is suddenly spinning around at a touch at her side.
"Wane!" says Wax with delight, and presses her cheek to his neck in a warm embrace. When she pulls away it is with a delighted smile. "It's only been one day, silly!" She responds with a laugh. The laugh grows still as she searches her twin's familiar face more carefully. She traces the strong lines of his face, the thick crest of his mane that is not at all as she remembers. This is her brother but this is an older brother when she should be the elder by a half hour.
This is more of what she had expected from the fairy-tale land that is Beqanna: an inexplicable three year age difference between twins. They had celebrated their third birthday not long before deciding to leave their childhood home, and though Wax had delayed her departure by a half-day, it seems that those twelve hours had passed much more quickly in Beqanna.
She is suddenly very aware of Magnus, who she had greeted and then immediately forgotten. Making a soft noise of distress (Wax is a great many things but never has she been so rude!), she turns back to the buckskin stallion with an apologetic smile.
"I'm Wax," she tells him, her voice demure and with the faintest hint of her father's twang. "And this is my brother, Wane. It's a pleasure to meet you, Magnus. Have I made it to Beqanna then?" This last question is directed at both of them, one copper brow raised curiously.
@[Magnus]
@[Wane]
He does not look like she had expected, this resident of Beqanna.
Wax's mind was filled with fanciful tails of violet colored horses that trailed silver sparks, of ruby-eyes mares who could shift to badgers in the blink of an eye. This horse looks rather like any other horse, though she is delighted to see that he is not bay like her mother, father, and brother, but is something different. Not like her (all bright copper and pale flax) but something entirely new.
She does not have enough time to take in much more than his color and name when she is suddenly spinning around at a touch at her side.
"Wane!" says Wax with delight, and presses her cheek to his neck in a warm embrace. When she pulls away it is with a delighted smile. "It's only been one day, silly!" She responds with a laugh. The laugh grows still as she searches her twin's familiar face more carefully. She traces the strong lines of his face, the thick crest of his mane that is not at all as she remembers. This is her brother but this is an older brother when she should be the elder by a half hour.
This is more of what she had expected from the fairy-tale land that is Beqanna: an inexplicable three year age difference between twins. They had celebrated their third birthday not long before deciding to leave their childhood home, and though Wax had delayed her departure by a half-day, it seems that those twelve hours had passed much more quickly in Beqanna.
She is suddenly very aware of Magnus, who she had greeted and then immediately forgotten. Making a soft noise of distress (Wax is a great many things but never has she been so rude!), she turns back to the buckskin stallion with an apologetic smile.
"I'm Wax," she tells him, her voice demure and with the faintest hint of her father's twang. "And this is my brother, Wane. It's a pleasure to meet you, Magnus. Have I made it to Beqanna then?" This last question is directed at both of them, one copper brow raised curiously.
@[Magnus]
@[Wane]