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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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    [private]  Don’t want you to think that I care; Jesla
    #1
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    Life on Icicle Isle was easy to re-adjust to for the frosted stallion. He spent his days finding food in the snow with his adjusted vision, remembering that for him it was so much easier than for others to do so, to spot the warmer patches where grass, fruits, or the occasional hare were hiding. Mostly, it was easier to find food and warmth because he no longer held himself to a strict vegetarian diet; something he had outright refused to do when he had been gifted, or cursed, with the teeth that were really unsuitable for grazing.

    But other than food he never really ventured towards the forested part of the Isle. Mostly this was an old habit, as he had known Phasus to reside there for quite some time. Even though no opposing horses lived there any longer and the scaled roan wasn’t in a supposed leadership position anymore, it still felt wrong to go there if he didn’t need to.

    He’d made himself a little something near the not-frozen lake, the place a reminder of what was indeed the coldest place in Beqanna he could find. If that wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what would be.

    It might occur to some that he was over-doing it, with his quest. But she asked of him to test himself, he knew, and perhaps also to prove to the world that being frozen wasn’t a bad thing. So he threw his whole self in it, heart and soul, as he would have for his family, his friends - prior to being shattered not too long after returning to Beqanna.

    But for now, it meant he would live on the Isle to contemplate, and that meant guarding it and keeping an eye out for lost wanderers - including in the forest.

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    @[Jesla]
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #2
    It is not like a foal has too much to worry about when both parents are not only around but, incredibly loving and attentive. Her parents made sure she had plenty of food and water even though resources are scarce on the Isle. Jesla speculates that all foals must struggle with balancing on their slender stilt-like limbs. They are just so impractical! For her, she had to figure out how to do so on snow, which becomes packed so hard, it is like ice. She also struggles with staying warm in the cold. Her mother had a naturally thick coat and, an equally thick hide. Her father had been gifted with two traits that protected him from the bitterness of the arctic. So, most of the time, Jesla could be found close to her parents: sidled close enough to feel their body heat or, sometimes close enough for their pelt to reach out to hers.

    As of late, her dad had been talking a lot about how she was getting bigger. And, there are responsibilities and expectations that go hoof-in-hoof with growing up. He had not gone into more, specific detail; however, he did describe the roles of a diplomat versus a soldier. He was careful to explain that the Isle is a territory and thus, does not function exactly like a kingdom. All the same, visitors should be greeted as it is proper.

    Jesla's nares flutter with a scent she has not come across. She lifts her poll and directs her ears in the direction it comes from. The scent is distinctly male and, feels thick as it enters her nasal caverns. The mint-spotted young lady decides to investigate. How hard could it be to walk up to someone and be a diplomat? Her four limbs, still a bit lanky for her build, coordinate into a confident walk. Jesla makes her way north as she localizes his cologne. As she picks her way through the crusty snow, she wonders why a newcomer would choose to linger in this extreme corner of the Isle. Perhaps, this male is not new to the Isle, she thinks.

    The heart-shaped lake is not visible from the shoreline. The trail is not well-traveled either. Jesla finds the snow to be thicker in accumulation as it is less likely to be moved by wind drifts and, less packed down by hooves. Her own dainty hooves punch through the crusty top layer and sink into the powder beneath. The relative warmth of her body causes the snow, in each hoofprint, to melt a little and stick to her fetlocks. By the time her soft green eyes discern the stocky build of another equine, her ankles carry little Icicle bracelets. She approaches the large, scaled stallion with a curious expression. Her ears prick forward on top of her head, which cocks to the side ever-so-slightly. Her eyes are wide and bright as her soft green eyes survey his form. His hide is covered in thick, silvery scales that, when the sun touches them just right, glisten. Jesla could not fathom that this horse would volunteer to be frosted in ice so, she reasons that he must have been here for a while and, has collected a permanent layer of ice crystals along his back.

    Finally, she finishes taking him all in. He knew she was there before she even came to a stop. Jesla stood much shorter than Leilan and, clearly younger. She wonders what his thoughts are of her but, he remains silent while she grossly stares. Finally, she adjusts her tilted head and introduces herself. "I am Jesla." She pauses when she hears her own voice. It surprises her as it waivers and bears a screech-like pitch. She swallows and tries again. "What are you doing way up here?" Her head tilts as the words pass her lips. Her tone this time is successfully less screechy and more curious. With a soft sigh, she stands proud of herself for making her way up here and talking to the unfamiliar guy.

    @[Leilan], whew. Sorry for the delay and for how long this is. This is her first official post so I was not quite sure how I wanted it to sound. Thank you for your patience. <3
    Reply
    #3
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    The icy cold of the north feels like a welcome home party, and yet he felt the need to build a shelter between larger rocks, dragon-ice blown between crevices until they were large enough to function as ice walls and an overhanging roof. He is not fazed by the cold, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys being snowed in or occasionally hailed upon; furthermore he remembers why he is here, and if his construction serves as an example for others, or if they can find a refuge up here, then he reasons he has helped them.

    Little does he know how much he’ll need it in the coming months; a foal on his doorstep would soon change everything.

    For now though, he ventured from the lake towards the forest on a daily basis, the exercise keeping him from getting too bored, as well as the walk being a means to find food. Life on the Isle was a rhythm he had not lost over the span of a few years (oh, how old did he sound now), and soon his patrols back and forth get noticed.

    Coming to the lake again to take a drink, he wonders if one of the foxes had been Jesper yet, or if otherwise someone had told him already about the “stranger” who crossed the Isle on a daily basis.

    Leilan however, stays put. He doesn’t mind not being approached, used to the mountaintops of Hyaline and looking scary enough in the meadow to foals, that none would approach. Truthfully, he had kind of discouraged their game of ‘who dares to come closest’ with a sharp-toothed snarl and a direct, hungry stare. Children’s games weren’t his strong suit since finding out about his wife leaving.

    Speaking of, a yearling now approaches; the girl of black, white and mint surprises him by being here at all. He saw her movement from far away, of course, but he just hadn’t really expected such a young one on the Isle, he supposes.

    Something about her is familiar, but it’s when she speaks - the way her voice sounds having naught to do with it - that he recognizes her for what she is. He is reminded of Trekori: how easily he was recognized simply for his name.

    ”I’m Leilan. I guess you could say I live here.” He gestures to the shelter, hardly visible to her at this distance he expects, but perhaps now that she is pointed to it she might. ”How are your parents doing? I haven’t spoken to them for a while.”

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    @[Jesla]
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #4
    Ears prick forward with curiosity atop her dainty poll. The scaled stallion seems so at ease up here. Jesla wonders if he had been up here the whole time. If her parents knew he resides here. She blinks as his introduction funnels into her lobes, trying to process the meaning behind, "I live here". Obviously, he currently does. Though, something about his non-chalant mannerisms suggest he has lived here, either in the past or, for quite some time. She opts to not press him about specifics and, instead, allow her gaze to shift to the structure behind him. As her pale green eyes study it, the black blanket appaloosa finds herself quite impressed.

    Her curiosity drives her to ask Leilan questions; however, her singly focused mind takes a delayed moment to return to the frost dragon and, process his latest words. He knows my parents? Well, that confirms it! Jesla's eyes widen for a split second before she collects her thoughts and, her voice. "They are good. Mom seems happy and dad keeps himself busy. He is suspicious because, as he says, things have been predictable and quiet for too long. He isn't to the point of being paranoid but, he hangs out with me less nowadays." Of course, in true kid fashion, the young lady has no filter and, no propensity for what might be too much to share.

    She hopes that Leilan is satisfied with her response because she would really like to get back to the topic of his ice bunker. Her gaze locks on it again as the sun glistens through the slabs of frozen water. Without realizing it, Jesla takes a couple steps closer to better take it in. As she stares in fascination, she pipes up. "Did you build that all by yourself, Leilan? It is quite magnificent. I rather wish our home was more like yours. I mean, mom moved into dad's cave before I was born. He did expand it a little but, three of us feels cramped. Especially since the cave was designed by a fox! I mean, horses are a lot taller than foxes! I keep bringing it up that we need a bigger place but, dad hasn't looked for one. He does sleep outside most nights so mom and I can have more room. But, he has a fur coat! Mom has a pretty thick coat too. I got the crap genes I guess... sorry, I am rambling." She allows her voice to trail off as her gaze and poll lowers slightly. Mom was always on her case about going on and on. As she stands there, slightly embarrassed, Jesla hopes that Leilan isn't too bothered by her company.

    @[Leilan]
    Reply
    #5
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    The minty-spotted girl takes her time processing, and much to Leilan’s contentment and amusement, displays all the phases which she goes through oh her face. Ah, the young. Oh that thought makes him old. He shakes his crest, realigning his mane as she continues on, no longer about her parents (though they play a role in it) but about her home, and how she has short fur.

    He just has a little not laughing out loud, and still a low chuckle escapes him during her speech and when she ends it.

    Green eyes sparkle when he assesses her, and he grins at her once. ”I wouldn’t think Jes would have survived here if he didn’t shift - so yeah, perhaps crap genes is the word. But surely we can do something about your situation.” he shrugs. A fox’ den is no place for a horse to live, after all.

    He nods south with his head. ”So would you like an expansion for your home, or a place to yourself?” he asks, already moving (knowing it must be south from here, even if he does not know exactly where Jesper had cramped his family.

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    @[Jesla] ;)
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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