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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


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    [open]  i feel a bad moon rising - anyone
    #1
    With Pteron off to play in the shallow creek (and explicit instructions to not go farther north than the big boulder or farther south than the willow copse), I have the afternoon to myself. I had watched without complaint as my husband took to the skies, off to our all but empty home.

    I remain here, safe in the tall grasses, surrounded by strangers.

    Where is Delta now, I wonder? Had he returned to Sylva? What if he were struck by the Plague while travelling? I have not yet seen a victim of the contagion, so secluded have I been here in this refuge. How bad is it, really? Enough that my husband insists we remain here, enough that I have never considered leaving.

    But to not leave means to stay in this quiet little land, and boredom has long since settled in. With a sharp snort I make a decision. From my standstill I am at a sudden gallop, the wind streaming in my navy mane and between the feathers of wings I keep tucked tightly to my sides. I am not the fastest creature, not with my short stature and lack of endurance, but there is only one way to make up for that.

    I have been running for a few days now, and though at first the ache in my lungs and burn in my legs had been agony, I have pushed through. I had been fit once, before my pregnancy, and I will be fit again. I crest a hill and see a flash of silver that I know to be the stream, but my pace does not slow. I run and run until I can see the sea, and only then do I draw to a halt, blowing and steaming and feeling - at last - like I have done something worthwhile with my time.

    @[Anyone]
    #2
    Blue mare - black wolf; she can’t seem to stay in horse-shape long enough to care. 

    The little wolf slinks through the golden grasses that have become a temporary sort of home. She adapts, preferring the cleaner plague-free meat of her kills here. Thus far, she’s avoided the plague and stays within the pampas’ boundaries, thinking of her brother and half-sister. They were her pack but the sister-wolf is missing which causes her to further worry at the knucklebone in her mouth with her teeth.

    Sawtooth often worries at bones when she was deep in thought or concerned. Though often the bones of choice cane from her mother’s body but she hasn’t been to the beach in months, not since the plague hit the lands. She’s had to settle for the bones of the animals she’s hunted and they just don’t satisfy her as much as her mother’s do. Like she thought gnawing in mama’s legbone might give her secret insight.

    The wolf tires of chewing on her bone and begins to fling it about then run it down. Small games to amuse herself and keep her skills sharp. Eventually she falls over in the grass, bored as the afternoon doldrums set in until a mare goes galloping by and her nose twitches at the stamp of her brother all over her. Sawtooth promptly sits up, as the horse grows smaller and smaller by the minute. Well now, this could be interesting, she thinks.

    A minute more, then she lopes after the mare. She follows her easily and untaxed by a need to catch up, knowing it’ll inevitably happen as she tracks her by scent and the trail ploughed through the tall wavering grass. Then she draws up short to sniff at the sudden salty tang in the air and forgets herself, memories of a different sea rising to the forefront of her mind as she creeps past the mare to hunker down and stare at the sea.

    She sits hunched over, thinking of the beach she’d been born on and then of the Tephran sea as mama-Wound had encouraged her to cross at the lowest tide so she’d have less to swim through. Sawtooth had had so much fun looking through the mudflats before the waves lapped at her feet, reminding her that the sea was ever so close to snatching her and drowning her in the deep. She’s unaware that her shape has grown sort of shimmery, that she’s shifting back to iridescent blue horse-form still hunkered down on her haunches in a sitting position like a stubborn donkey, wings tucked close to her sides.

    @[Lepis] ok so she isn’t talking yet but... lol
    #3

    that's all there is

    As much as she wants to get to know the land – and she has, loving every moment of winter turning to summer; every new bloom inspected and catalogued in her mind as moments of quiet brilliant joy – she knows she must also know the people. While Wolfbane is to leave her to abide here when he returns to his Kingdom, Noah knows others will stay. And even those who return to Loess will be close allies, even friends. So she emerges from the wildflowers one day and is creeping quietly along with wonder in her eyes when a streak of light-colored creature goes racing past, and the little red mare recognizes the rushing form of Lepis.


    For a moment, her heart jumps into her throat, and worry into her eyes. For where can the mare be off to in such a rush? What danger is she fleeing? Noah seeks around her in wide-eyed fear, looking for the source of the danger, but she sees nothing and no one. No one else is fleeing an unseen threat, no raised voices, or strange smells. Every one of her senses says there is no danger, and slowly her fear begins to recede into curiosity. She follows the path the other mare has taken easily through the meadow, though she can’t help but reach out to the wilting and crushed flowers underfoot and coax them back to life in her wake. Sometimes she imagines she can feel their pain, and she refuses to walk amongst the plantlife without restoring some health to those crushed under her own feet.


    It is no harder to track Lepis on the sandy shore, where her hooves leave deep imprints, but she doesn’t have to track her. She can see her, standing at the edge of the water, but something else drifts across her consciousness before she can move forward to speak. This is the scent of a predator, but one she has crossed paths with before in her wanderings across the Pampas; wolf. Her eyes lock on the black canine and she’s jumping forward, voice lifting to warn Lepis, when there is no longer a wolf, but in its place, a blue horse.


    ”Lepis!” the warning had already escaped but it is cut off, strangled and strange as she stumbles over her own leap, her instinct to run forward and protect, and it takes her a moment and a flare of her red-brown wings to steady herself, and then she is turns a shy and apologetic glance to Lepis, and to the girl. “Sorry, I,” she hesitates, looks between them. “I only saw you as a wolf, at first, and I suppose I’m a little jumpy and on edge.”

    noah

    #4
    The sharp cry startles me, and I spin to face the voice as my wings flare out without thought. An unconscious defense - making myself look larger - but I see no danger: there is only Noah and an odd blue horse. It is the blue creature that Noah looks at and so I follow her gaze, my cobwebbed brow knitting at the sight of her odd position and drooping wings.

    I'd not seen here there when I'd reached the beach, and I wonder if she hadn't been behind me, the wind diverting her scent and the sound of my hooves hiding those of her hooves.

    Or her paws?

    Noah says she had seen the winged girl as a wolf and my navy ears flick forward curiously. I take a curious step forward, pleased by the limberness of my still-warm muscles.

    "You're a shifter?" I ask her, curiosity coloring my voice. I have heard of horses with such gifts, but I have never come across one. "I'm Lepis," I add as an afterthought, wondering who this unfamiliar creature might be. It's obvious that Noah does not know her either, which only serves to further my interest.

    @[Sawtooth]
    @[Noah]
    #5
    She turns at the first sound of warning that comes in the form of the pale mare’s name from the lips of an unfamiliar roan (but one that she has scented on the long grasses that wave to and fro here). Her lips lift in a mischievous smile as she realizes the unknown mare had reacted to the scent and sight of a predator - of her, in wolfskin. Laughter tugs at her lips but she only smiles as the apology comes.

    If Sawtooth is pleased, she hides it well. Her skills as a wolf have improved to the point that she may end up being of some use yet to her brother. Then again, she’s content to mooch off his affection and the plague-free land for right now. Even her own blue wings flutter just a bit, as if tittering in response to the flare of the other mares’ sets of wings too.

    Curious that, the three of them could have a grand old time up in the sky instead of on the stony beach. “I am,” she answers proudly. Well, not too much pride but just enough to suggest that she appreciated her other shape and it’s useful talents as much as she appreciated her iridescent blue skin and fluffy wings.

    She straightens further, realizing it is her turn to give a name even though she has no clue who the roan is. Sawtooth has recognized Lepis from the way her scent had become tangled up in her brother’s, as if they’d unknowingly marked one another like territory. The girl can’t help but smile at that, as she introduces herself. “I’m Sawtooth, Wolfbane’s sister.”


    @[Lepis] @[Noah] sorry for the wait loves! 
    #6

    that's all there is

    \Noah is a reasonably adept flyer, and getting better now as she has journeyed farther across Beqanna in recent weeks than ever before. Still, it’s unusual to her how many of the Pampas’ current residents are winged. Her father had not been, after all, and he had been her only companion for so many years. He had no real idea of how to fly, but he had nonetheless insisted that Noah learn to use her own wings; they’d fumbled through the basics together, and then it had been up to the little filly to learn the rest on the go; she has seen others in the air with far more grace and skill than she, and she guesses with the careless ease the blue amre moves she is one such.


    Lepis is far less lost than Noah – she identifies the mare (wolf?) as a shifter right away, in clear interest. Noah forces herself to finish approaching, though certainly now less hurried, and tries not to look as nervous around the blue mare as she feels. But, really, she prefers her predators visible at all times so she knows what to expect – the mere fact that the stranger can be horse one moment and wolf the next makes her worry. Still, she refuses to assume that she’s got bad intentions before she does something to make her worthy of suspicion. And, she pronounced herself Bane’s sister – thus, inherently probably someone trustworthy.


    “I’m Noah,” she offers after a moment, smiling tentatively. “Welcome to the Pampas, Sawtooth,” She wonders what Sawtooth thinks of their temporary home – because surely the blue mare will move on with her brother and Lepis, when the time comes that it is safe to do so. Noah can’t imagine that she would leave her family, even for the Brilliant Pampas. Of course, when you don’t have any family, it’s easy to think that – she kicks herself, mentally, for assuming that Sawtooth and Wolfbane are close. Perhaps they aren’t. Her frame of reference for families is limited, so she isn’t sure she’d know.

    noah



    @[Lepis] @[Sawtooth]




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