"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
She slips into Beqanna as she slips out of vision - suddenly, and without warning.
Being here, being back, feels unnatural. She is lost even though she knows every path, every stream, every open plain and closed forest. She didn’t mean to end up here (but she did, somewhere deep inside the darkest recesses of her bruised and battered heart, this is where she wanted to be, needed to be) and now she’s back she is uncomfortable, like there is a stone in her hoof or a fly on her back - something niggles at her, and she cannot reach it to stop the itch. She is uneasy because she should never have left in the first place.
She never went far. No, she is that same naive foal, so embarrassed, so unwilling to step out of the shadows and really be someone. She is just taller, rounder, the angles and edges of her childhood have blended and softened through maturity, turning her from an awkward filly into a quiet mare, plain to look at but for her coat.
She comes to a halt at the edge of the meadow, and she is saddened to see how much smaller it now seems, how much older everything looks. She flickers in and out of existence; she never got control of her invisibility (never wanted to, because she always feared she would make herself invisible and never be seen again, this gentle mare with a cold fist around her gut), and so she watches, a bright beacon of colour flashing amongst the dark trees behind her.
(i don't even know. i need someone to come mess her up. i will probably write her in 18 different styles before i settle. just so you know.)
07-23-2017, 06:40 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2017, 06:41 PM by Chemdog.)
He saw her there, how could he not, flashing in and out. So far he assumes he hasn’t been spotted by the jade and crimson girl with the rather befuddled look upon her adorable face. She’s clearly very young – and is that magic that’s out of control or has she been cursed? He ponders this while he quietly chews his last mouthful of greens from a stream’s edge. He dips into the shadows with little sound but a turning leaf. He is invisible now too, but his is well controlled. He’s learned to keep his breathing rhythmic, lucky foor him there is a breeze and so he may creep close when the sounds stir with the gentle gusts.
He says nothing but creeps within feet of her, hidden within the dark trees. He snaps a twig on purpose, but there is nothing to see in his direction, he is dead still and camouflaged into the umbrage of dappled tree shadows. He waits for her to examine where he stands before popping into view, peeling away the shadows to reveal his speckled body and bone white face; those eyes of his are the first to glow as he steps into the dim evening light. He’s lead by his own sinister chuckle and his voice breaks through the quiet, a low thunderous tone. “Well hello…” His teal stare levels with hers, they dance with mischief and humor and other things too…
He’s much larger, much older. His mind rolls around the possibilities of what he might get to do with, or to her. Will she be a willing friend? Is she an ornery lass, a sweet one? He peers down at her, his mind taking in her image, her smell, her figure and her eyes. He’s never seen anyone of her odd colors, even if it is hard to tell with her flashing in and out like she is…
07-24-2017, 10:50 AM (This post was last modified: 07-24-2017, 10:54 AM by elve.)
A noise behind her turns her head, but not quickly; like a snake toying with it’s prey she allows her head to slip to the side, look to where the noise came, but there is nothing there. Nothing visible, anyway (the invisible girl understands how things are not always how they appear), until there is something visible, a stallion, black and white where she is red and green.
If he thinks he will have surprised her, he should know this is not her first rodeo with the deep dark things that lurk in the shadows (and despite her willing the thoughts to stay locked away one sneaks out, curling up in the middle of her mind like a comfortable cat, it’s sharp claws neatly tucked away, for now). She grew up with monsters, she was named by a monster.
The monsters don’t surprise her, but she is sensible enough to be scared by them.
She learnt that much.
She watches him, as he watches her, and a tremble runs across her back, involuntarily. She doesn’t want to speak, afraid her voice will break and betray her nerves, but a word slips through her soft green lips before she can bite it back; “Hello.” Just one word, two syllables, five letters edged with a bristling wariness (and for one second she swears that this stallion before her is a different stallion, one with a broken wing and a desire to break other things). She blinks her eyes as she blinks out of existence, then back. It’s easier to control when she has something to think about (even if that something is so close to something else that she shivers again, uneasy, unsure), but she still cannot stay in one plane of light too long.
She says nothing more, because he liked her to be silent, and she doesn’t want to anger this new monster; she doesn’t know what he can do yet and she knows enough to not want to find out. Any horse that desires an element of surprise like that is probably one which she should stay away from (yet she never could, since the first she has been drawn to them all).
She shuffles back, uncomfortable with the closeness of this other.
@[Chemdog]
(hmmmmmm i'm about 70% sure with her right now haha)
He wasn’t sure what to do with this situation... Was she new with her magic or just lazy? Out of control or intentionally seizure-inducing? He decided he could not stare at her any longer, even if he wants to pick apart the curves and valleys of her body – it is blinding to watch her fade and unfade and fade again. He sucks in a deep and rather contemplative breath, looking onward to the horizon. The silence moves smoothly between them, her blinking, him breathing and watching the swaying trees beyond.
Finally he finds it fit to speak, nothing too serious, but enough to push away the quiet between them. He keeps his eyes forward as the baritones and stone-steady rumble of his voice draws up from his chest. “It will be dark soon, you know.” He bends his closest ear to her, flicking his tail. “And it’s not wise to be alone in the dark.” He lets his head fall to crop the long grasses at his feet and chews contentedly, taking a short step here and there. He leaves her to ponder what he’s just said, either she’ll take it for what it is or scoff and disappear into the darkness. It is a gamble he’s willing to wager.
![[Image: n2oih3.png]](http://i64.tinypic.com/n2oih3.png)
