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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


    a few thousand miles, and an ocean away. || amet, iset, any
    #1
    Few thousand miles and an ocean away,
    but I see the sunrise, just like the other day.
       Foolish, her mother would say, wandering so aimlessly with such little self-preservation. The warmth of the summer air has drawn her away from the shallow shoreline of the volcanic ridge, longing to part from the stagnant humidity and stench of sulfur that lingered in the stillness of the air. The sunlight is unforgiving against her dark, dappled skin, and its unyielding light weaves its way through her flaxen tresses, which lay haphazardly along her cheek as her bright hazel eyes search the seemingly endless horizon.

       She has wandered far, her sinewy muscles aching and her bones weary, with her rapidly beating heart hammering inside of her chest. She is enthralled, and altogether filled with a giddiness that has set her nerves on fire, as excitement flickers like an ever-present ember in her wild spirit. Not unlike her mother (or her brother, or her sister, for that matter), she is restless for something more than complacency, and though there is a trace of hesitance lingering in the back of her mind, she has all but doused it with an overwhelming hunger for adventure. 

       She is still youthful - with languid, but gangly limbs, with her feminine curves barely touching the edge of her rounding hips and once hollow cheeks. She is caught between her youth and her womanhood, eyes bright and mischievous, as her dark skin tingles with anticipation. With the winding rivulets of magma and sulfur left behind, her bright gaze peers over the ridge of the mountain crest and settles on the breathtaking sight before her - bright, vivid vegetation (a colorful splendor), and a shining, crystalline body of water situated at the base.

       Hyaline.
    Antonia


    @[Amet]
    #2
    Iset
    goddamn right
    you should be scared of me
    Aimless wandering just happened to be one of her favorite things to do. Second only to stirring up trouble and sticking her nose deeply into places it didn’t belong.

    This is what she was doing when she first saw the filly; climbing the array of craggy mountain ranges that cupped Hyaline like a bowl and avoiding any and all duties that she may be responsible for as a princess or a queen or a leader or whatever she is. 

    Sometimes she wanted the ability to be a diplomat like Amet; nobody gets angry at him for anything he says. He doesn’t get reprimanded and made to feel like a child. He makes friends and partnerships easily, something that has never been and ability of Iset’s. She was jealous of this, though she would never admit it, especially to her brother. 

    Despite her shallow envy, she hadn’t quite come to grips with the newfound (albeit minor) responsibilities that she had been saddled with, and the mountains were her favorite escape. An escape she treasured, and wanted to stay hers. That is why the moment the other girl comes into view, Iset bristles and all but growls at the sight of her. 

    “You can’t be up here,” she bites out roughly, upset that her sanctuary had been compromised. “This is my place,” she hisses. Approaching the smaller mare with a harsh gleam in her eye. 

    The wind tugs harshly at her mane; it was always worse on the peaks of her hideout, and today was no exception. She blew her forelock impatiently out of the way before returning her focus to the filly before her. 

    She gives the girl a brief once over, sizing her up before opening her mouth to speak again, “What are you doing here? What do you want?” She had been thrown off balance by this stranger in her refuge, and regardless of her wish to adopt the leadership that Amet displayed, she wasn’t about to play nice.



    ooc: Oh my lord it's short and bad but I just got back from a 4 hour workout and this is the best my tiny brain can do! Sorry!
    #3
    Few thousand miles and an ocean away,
    but I see the sunrise, just like the other day.
      She is caught unaware, her bright, awestruck gaze settled on the serene stillness of the crystalline water cradled between the jagged ridges, with opulent, vivid vegetation draping over the terrain in its colorful splendor. When the voice, laced with arsenic and as bitter as a dandelion, interrupts her quiet reverie, she does not have any time to conceal the stunned expression from gracing her youthful, yet feminine features.

      Her eyes search the hardened plane of her face, seeing little else but ire and hostility, and soon she is bristling – her gleaming dappled skin parts for miniscule (yet finely sharpened) protrusions of bone, emerging from her skin wherever the bones of her skeletal outline may be.

      Along the bridge of her nose, long, curved horns, yet again carved of her own bone, protrude in a row, and the gleam of intrigue soon fades away from the shining gleam of her eyes. Her nostrils flare, as a brief glance is cast out towards the vast fallow before her, tracing the winding branches of draping wisteria, calling to her as it gently sways to and fro in the light and gentle breeze. Alas, it seemed it was all an illusion, kept captive by a single, solitary and evidently miserable imp.

      ”Is it yours? I hadn’t realized,” she murmurs, a low-lying irritation festering in her voice. She was often quiet, but far from meek, and she would not be threatened nor intimidated. ”I was passing through, trying to see what else is out there.” Her gaze is steady upon her now, studying the dark hollow of her cheek and the rigid line of muscle along the length of her neck.

      ”I had heard that there was a place to the north where those under a certain age could come to learn diplomacy and combat; I hoped maybe ..” but her voice fades away; it doesn’t matter what she had hoped. It seemed Hyaline held nothing for her.

      Not even the promise of opportunity.

      ”It doesn’t matter. I’ll go.”
    Antonia
    #4
    if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

    He is returning from elsewhere, just crossing the invisible border of Hyaline when his fluttering nostrils find the scent of Iset. Oddly close to the border, aren't you, Iset? he questions internally, a small twitch of his lip betraying his own private amusement. The young girl doesn't act the part of the diplomat, doesn't even pretend to want to, but somehow she and her fiery personality consistently end up in the conversations and meetings that Amet would whole-heartedly consider important. It keeps him on his figurative toes and his blood pressure high.

    His golden frame moves easily across the broken shale mountain, just beneath the summit, where the wind isn't entirely terrible. He doesn't come up here often, instead opting to leave the peaks to Iset and Tang, who have both taken a liking to their privacy. The only time Amet truly wanders through and over them are when he is leaving for or returning from the common lands. He even allows most visitors to pick their way down the mountain trail to the center of their home, where they can gaze upon the beautiful crystalline lake before he greets them.

    The dragon king hums quietly while he hunts for Iset, his amber eyes roving the scenery around him as he wanders, neither urgent or sloth-like. When he does, finally, find the metallic filly, Amet is surprised to see that she is not alone, and he silently scolds himself for not noticing the unfamiliar scent. Today, it seems that he is safe from the consequences of his mistake, but perhaps someday there would be reason to be so diligent.

    It doesn't matter. I'll go.

    His ears prick at the words, a frown befalling dark lips. "Wait!" he calls to the silver black filly as he decelerates and finally halts next to Iset. Amet's amber eyes are drawn to the spikes that protrude from her skin, skipping from the large ones on her face to the smaller ones at her shoulders and back. He, despite his own gold and bronze dragon scales, is still not used to the unique creatures that Beqanna has a knack for creating.

    "Please, don't go," he says warmly to the filly as he bumps a shoulder gently into his sister's, "My name is Amet. My sister forgets that we are trying to welcome visitors to Hyaline. She likes to show-off that she has perfected scaring them away." He's feeling a little bit too happy and a little bit too fatigued to give Iset his usual speech today, and when he turns his gaze upon her, the dragon-boy winks uncharacteristically.

    Amet


    @[Antonia] @[Iset]
    #5
    Iset
    goddamn right
    you should be scared of me
    Thats no fair. This horse, caught in a struggle between girl and woman, had a built in weapon. Bony spikes emerge from her softly dappled coat and pepper her back and sides before spreading to the ridges of her face. Iset can’t help but stretch her neck out a little closer, getting a minutely closer look the protrusions littering the body of the filly. 

    She was a traveler, much like Siba. But she was young, definitely young enough to take residency in Hyaline. Her voice was riddled with frustration, something Iset was accustomed to hearing in the voices of others once she started speaking. 

    She needs Amet. She was no good at this diplomatic stuff, and struggled to find the words to tell the filly that she was welcome in Hyaline, just not in her mountains. Iset knew that this was one of those times that she needed to chose her words carefully, lest the other girl give her a matching scar on the other side of her neck. 

    Her voice is overpowered by the wind that had begun whipping through the craggy peaks the moment the sun had started to go down, and Iset struggles to hear the words that leave the girl’s mouth. She seems to be resigning, to be leaving the mountain before any conflict between the two fillies can ensue, but before she has time to turn and retreat, Amet butts his shiny scaled nose into the situation. 

    He screeches to a stop by her side, and thought Iset is somewhat grateful for his presence (at least now she couldn’t mess things up further), she had been strangely excited to handle this newcomer on her own. The next one, perhaps, she muses. 

    Amet taps his shoulder into his sister, just as she so often does to him. Their small sign that everything is okay, and that the siblings still stood together. Her light frame rocks gently at the contact, and she rolls her eyes at her brother’s comment, “It’s not my fault they’re so easy to scare off!” She defends loudly, “Consider it their preliminary training; they need to have at least some backbone,” the last part is mumbled, but in Iset’s mind its true. If they were meant to be training these foals, the latter needed to have some guts going into it. 

    Amet tosses a wink her direction, numbing the sting of his words slightly. Unfortunately, she was actually beginning to respect her brother and care about what he said and thought of her, something she was very uncomfortable with indeed. 

    She returns her golden gaze to the smokey black filly, “Sure, you can stay. But Hyaline is down there,” she tosses her nose the the crystalline lake below them, “These are my mountains. Besides,” she adds, a cheeky grin angled towards her brother, “It seems my brother has a little crush on you, so it might be best if you stay.” 

    A cackling laugh escapes her mouth, unable to resist a chance to rib her brother and his love life.




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