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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    dark side of the morning - anyone
    #11


    i know i'm not the center of the universe
    -but you keep spinning 'round me just the same

    The rumbling of the volcano causes the colt to step back a time or two. His brown eyes are wide and wary, but the volcano quiets down fairly quickly and Warrick seems unconcerned. Tephra does not seem an exceptionally safe place to live despite the gorgeous views and warm climate, and Ivar wonders what had drawn the first settlers here. Perhaps they’d been led the same way the others had, a little band of horses given a land chosen for them by the same Beqanna magic that had just stolen from them.

    That was all before Ivar’s time, of course. He has only ever known the Beqanna that exists now. Pangea’s disappearance was a foggy childhood memory, as are the discoveries of Hyaline and Loess.

    The yearling looks up to meet Warrick’s eyes, listening to the older stallion’s answer with intense focus.

    “Yes,” he agrees as Warrick describes the nature of Pele, “That does make sense. I think that I would help her, if I could.”

    In front of them, the sky is beginning to fade, hinting at the coming dusk, He should be back home by nightfall, he knows. Mother and Father still worry, even if they don’t say as much. Still, he has a bit of time, and he answers readily when Warrick questions him farther.

    “I’m trying to go everywhere,” he tells Warrick truthfully. “I’ve still got to see Loess, but then I’ll have seen all the lands. Not all the common lands though – Mom says I’m still too young. I’m gonna go someday though! See the Challenge grounds and the Illumni Plains and even the Beach.” The last word is spoken with something akin to awed reverence. He has been told, explicitly and several times, that he is not to ever go to the Beach.

    “Have you been everywhere?” He asks.

    -------------------i v a r
    ------------------------------------djinni and stillwater---------------------------------

    #12
     

    Warrick has rather enjoyed having the company of the young stallion, glad that Ivar has shared his curiosity of the world around him as well as the appreciation of legends and tales. He almost hopes that once this trip is over, that the pied yearling will return to Tephra; Warrick didn’t quite like the idea of never seeing Ivar again. He feels comfortable with the younger colt, as if the two had known each other in a past lifetime.

    The boy was still young, and Warrick hopes he is able to keep the innocence of youth about him - that curiosity and his inquisitive nature. It will certainly benefit him as he grows older and experiences hardships that all must face.

    While autumn begins to filter through the rest of Beqanna, the heat of summer remains in Tephra. As the sun starts to set, the temperature lowers a bit, the sea breeze lifting Warrick’s inky tendrils from the slope of his neck, cooling him slightly. Ivar tells him his hopes in his future travels, the bay stallion smiling warmly at the excitement in his young voice. “You have some very big plans, Ivar. I wish you all the best in achieving them.” He raises his brows, turning his cerulean gaze towards the yearling that walks in step beside him. “Perhaps I can come with you for some – I’d hate to miss out on some grand adventure and let you have all the fun,” he laughs, deep and rumbling, before gently bumping his auburn shoulder against the onyx of Ivar’s coat.

    “Everywhere?” Warrick repeats, pressing his lips together thoughtfully. “No, not everywhere. Actually, I haven’t yet been to your home, Sylva.” He looks at him curiously, his thoughts wandering back to the time he met Djinni in the forest during his first few days in Beqanna after the Reckoning.
    like the sun,
    swallowed up by the earth
    warrick
    #13
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge
    of how much to give and how much to take
    He imagines that he sees a star far out at sea, glimmering just above the horizon. Mother had told him once that stars were distant suns, many with places not terribly different than Beqanna circling them the same way that Beqanna circles its sun. He had taken in the story the same way he had the tale Warrick has just told of Pele. Fascinating, regardless of if he’ll ever be able to verify it.

    He is grateful to the older stallion for both the tale and the journey through Tephra, though in his exuberance he has quite forgotten to mention it. It is only when the sky-haired stallion wishes him well that he remembers his manners. With a smile he says: “Thanks. For everything, I mean.” He returns the bump of his shoulder in turn, the gesture reminding him of the way that he greets his father. He wonders if Dad would like this stranger. He is sure Mother would, so when Warrick tells him that he’s not every been to Sylva, Ivar doesn’t hesitate to invite him.

    “You should come!” He says enthusiastically, quite forgetting the wariness he feels with the volcano so near, and pawing at the sand. “It’s really nice; lots of rocks and trees that are always gold.” The wonder of trees that do not change might not be as remarkable to a horse that lives in evergreen Tephra, but it is still something new.

    “Mom wouldn’t mind,” he assures Warrick, remembering immediately to not make the same awkward mistake he had with Nyka in the Field. “Mom’s the queen, so she can decide things like that. Queen Djinni.”


    IVAR
    #14
    Warrick follows Ivar’s gaze as the young colt looks out over the sea, the pinpricks of starlight beginning to show as the sun begins to drop below the horizon. He watches out over the calm sea with a thoughtful glance (so deep in thought, he always was), his lips forming into a thin and expressionless line as he too, imagines stars dancing across the atmosphere. The sound of Ivar’s voice brings him back from the ocean’s rippling surface, his blue eyes sparkling as he thanks him sincerely. Warrick nods his head, the thick blackness of his forelock falling to one side of his face. “You are most welcome, Ivar. I cannot speak for Offspring, but I don’t see why your presence would ever be rejected here in Tephra.”

    Warrick’s chuckle is deep and rumbling as it reverberates in his chest, Ivar’s excitement becoming contagious as he speaks of Sylva. Trees of eternal gold, burning like the sun against the horizon. Yes, he could see it.

    The pied yearling’s next statement surprises Warrick fully, not being able to hide the way his brows rise inquisitively and his jaw slackens just so. “Djinni?” he repeats slowly but almost whimsically, his blue lips turning lopsided as he grins. Of course, he thinks. He sometimes forget that Beqanna itself can still be so small. “I’m sure she would be delighted; we have not seen each other for quite some time,” he says with a smile of assurance, wondering if Ivar will run home to let the mare know exactly who had given him the tour of Tephra. He is sure that her reaction might be the same as his own.
    like the sun,
    swallowed up by the earth
    warrick

    Sad
    #15
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge
    of how much to give and how much to take
    Though his mother has tried to teach him, Ivar’s mind is no steel trap. He supposes that Offspring must be the ruler here and that he’s been told that a half-dozen times and has simply forgotten. He’s not quite interested in politics, which his mother has (perhaps accidentally) nurtured in him with her encouragement to wander alone. He’d rather look at the lands than at the faces in him, though he supposes if there were more horses like Warrick he wouldn’t mind the conversing so much. The bay stallion has been patient despite Ivar’s curiosity, and had even told him a new story. He is probably Ivar’s favorite non-related adult so far.

    His gaze has wandered, but at the question in Warrick’s voice when he says Ivar’s mother’s name, the boy looks back. He says it as though he knows her, but as far as Ivar is aware, Mother has never left Sylva without taking him alone. Neither of his parents leave Sylva; Father stays in his lake and Mother stays with him. But Warrick says otherwise, and Ivar is still young enough to trust that this new friend wouldn’t lie.

    “I’ll tell her you’ll come,” He promises the older man, “She likes visitors.” Well, he thinks she does. But perhaps he does not know her all that well after all.

    “I have to go home now,” Says the pied colt with clear reluctance in his voice. “I promised I’d be home by nightfall.” He does try to be a good son, and while he is sad to be leaving, the thought that Warrick might come to visit soon has him brightening up again almost instantly. “Thanks for showing me around,” he says as he turns. “I;’ll see you later!”

    IVAR




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