amanita
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Assailant -- Year 226
"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
in the middle of the night; anyone
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01-26-2018, 03:01 PM
01-30-2018, 03:46 PM
He no longer wakes up confused each morning at the absence of his brother at his side. Enough time has passed since their initial parting of ways that he no longer looks for that wine-red face each dawn or feels hollow without him during the night. They had stayed together for longer than young men usually do, their closeness forged both by the bonds of their twinship and their abandonment. But they had known their time together would not last forever; they were well-adjusted and independent despite an existence that might have demanded codependence.
They catch up often enough that he does not have time to truly miss Tyrinn; just a month past they’d played a game or coward-or-dare to see who;d inch out farthest on a frozen lake deep in the woods. Tyrinn had won, of course, Merrik has always been a bit more hesitant - a little more thorough in his thoughts. He is doing just that - contemplating why the broad expanse of sunny meadow ahead of him had never been claimed by a single group. Common Land, it has been declared; though when and by whom is a question no one seems to have an answer to. Or even a question they cared about at all. A warm breeze tugs at the broad wings that Merrick holds at his sides, and a stray feather itches uncomfortably. He pries it from the edge of his wing with careful teeth. When he releases it, it drifts of his own accord up to his dark mane. a few strands of hair stretch out for the quill, and they twist over and under each other until the feather is anchored securely. It brushes against others like it, feathers tied into the young stallion’s hair. Most are varying shades of blue that also look to have come from his own wings, but a few are strikingly dissimilar. There is a red pinion from a cherry cardinal, yellow from an oriole and a macaw’s green tail feather. Merrik has collected them in his travels, souvenirs of his journeys across Beqanna. The sound of movement to the north distracts him, and Merrik looks up to see a ruddy bay mare settling into the shade of a tree. She is close enough to converse with, and there is something intriguing in those eyes that stare up from beneath the protection of her ebony forelock. ”Hey.” He says, bobbing his head in a polite greeting. ”I’m Merrik.”
02-01-2018, 02:55 PM
02-11-2018, 02:56 PM
Amanita, she says, a name that he finds pleasant. He wonders if it means anything; sometimes names give a hint as to the character of their owner, but sometimes they are only a combination of letters that their parents had strung together. The latter was the case with Merrick, after all, he and Tyrinn both.
He’s about to say something else - what, he is no longer sure - when she steps closer. The blue stallion might have been concerned, were she not clearly looking at his feathers. Merrick is rather proud of them, and to have them admired is always pleasant. Tyron has teased him that he is no different than a peacock, adorning himself to gather the attention of the ladies. He wasn’t wrong, of course, but Merrick also enjoys the reminders of the lands he has visited that come back to him when he catches a glimpse of color in his hair. Amanita asks if the long green feather is from a horse or a bird, and Merrick smiles, clearly amused. ”A bird. I’ve never taken a feather from another horse before. They do seem to come in more colors these days though; perhaps I should.”
02-11-2018, 05:22 PM
02-23-2018, 05:52 PM
She is full of compliments, and Merrick responds to them with a warm smile. 'Peacocking', Tyrinn had once called his well-displayed collection, but the slate blue stallion has always found more enjoyment in looking at the feathers than in showing them off. Still, Amanita's compliments are well received and flattering.
"And someone willing to donate them as well," he says, "Though I've always fancied myself quick enough to get away if I had to resort to stealing a few." He winks, knowing that despite his roguish claim he does not have the aura of a thief - or even of someone bold enough to try. Amanita asks about a home, and Merrik shakes his head in the brief pause between her words. He's never felt the need to find a place to stay, not when there is grass in the meadow, water in the river, and shelter in the forest. Still, the way she speaks of the lands beyond seems to mean more. Perhaps she is the type to want a kingdom, a place to protect and be protected by. Merrik cannot honestly say that he has ever felt such a need, but he does not judge her for it. "It's different than the kingdoms of before," remarks the sabino stallion, "but they're still kingdoms. I would have lived in the Tundra, but I can't say I dislike the lack of perpetual wind and snow." He pauses and shivers at the idea of neverending ice, and then looks back at Amanita. "What about you? Where did you call home, before all of this?"
03-03-2018, 10:52 PM
The warmness of her companion did a lot for the quiet girl's demeanor. She even found a small laugh bubbling up at his most recent words. Somehow she doubted stealing was in his nature, but she'd not dispute the claim. He went on to mention the Tundra and she thought she might remember that one. It was the bachelor herd and for some reason that did not surprise her that he'd chose that life. She wasn't sure why but it didn't "I certainly cannot blame you. The company would have to be exceptional to make somewhere that cold home." The Jungle was it's counterpart she knew, but she never recalled having any desire to live there. She understood it was a safe haven for mares, but the bay mare had never had enough trouble with stallions to warrant avoiding them for the rest of her life.
When he asked her last home it took some thought to dredge the names from her memory. "The Dale was one I believe, my sister.. adopted lived there. The Chamber was another, but I never really settled anywhere to be honest. The Meadow is as home to me as either of those." It had always been so. Sure. she had stayed in one place for awhile at times but she never had felt that intense desire to stay as some did. Or pride in a home. Or protectiveness. No, the land never called to her like it seemed to others. "I don't know why but I never had the desire. Perhaps though I might visit these new kingdoms, maybe something will be there that wasn't before." She looked again to the borders. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to push herself into the unknown and explore what had been made. It might not be the same, but perhaps what she had been missing could be found now, in one of these new places. She turned her gaze back to her companion, "do you have a favorite of these new kingdoms? Anywhere special? ooc: @[Merrik] did you see the pretty baby?! also my bad i definitely didn't see your reply until now >.< | ||
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