• Logout
  • 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


    [open]  I don't feel anything until I smash it up
    #11
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    Old. She’s old and confused.

    He knows this simply from the request alone - the Deserts have not exist under that name or in such a form, for a very long time. Not since the Reckoning (which he had thankfully missed out upon by travelling elsewhere); and even more recently with the rise of Pangea, Beqanna was not the same as when he came back that first time.

    Someone would have told her. Someone should tell her.

    But the children do not know, nor does the painted stallion, and the other mare may not be old enough - so it comes down to him, a son of the Jungle with the marks of winter upon him. But it is in fact convenient to do so, even if he would have told this story anyway had he been asked. After all, he was sent out to this world to help others. Starting with the palomino girl, it seemed he was running down a cascade finding yet another lost soul here.

    He shakes his head at her with a definitive look - almost as definitive as his voice in the first sentence. ”The Dewdrop Deserts are no more. Neither are the Jungle, the Tundra, or the Falls… not for two decades or perhaps even longer.” He trails, knowing there had been more lands but honestly, he had not paid attention back then (he wasn’t much older than the two foals are now) and had all but forgotten most of it. He glances at the mare. ”Fairies didn’t agree with the excessive use of magic, from what I heard. But Carnage brought back Pangea: nowadays, Beqanna has four kingdoms - Loess, Tephra, Nerine and Pangea - each with two territories or herdlands as we speak. If you’re looking to survive the winter with that coat of yours, you may need to go west. The islands may have a climate to your liking; the beaches aren’t as humid as the Jungle was.” It’s as brief a summary as he can give without telling her about the Plague that came with Pangea, and the years it took the Beqannians to find a cure; the story would be too long, and all the while, they’d stand here freezing in the cold. Freezing while the palomino foal he’d found on Icicle Isle, was slowly starving if he couldn’t find her enough to eat for the rest of winter.

    Though perhaps one of these horses knew of a way, he wasn’t about to ask straight aw -

    The young girl near to him squeals, and an apple flings itself from the shadows towards the dark and lost mare. ”Hey!” He flicks an ear back as he looks at the little culprit - she was guarded by shadow creatures when he found her, if her squeal alone hadn’t been enough evidence. He continues in a softer tone, explaining. ”A little nicer to the lost lady, will you? She hasn’t harmed you.”

    Not (even) him, either, which lately seems a miracle; nor anyone really. Sure, she comes off pretty regal and surprisingly hot warm, judging by the melting snow. But in Beqanna, magic runs freely through nearly anyone’s veins. If hers is warmer than his, it wouldn’t surprise him at all - his is the ice.

    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


    @[Merewen] So, last time I posted after Kradle but the order is messed up anyway, so I’m taking a wild guess and say it’s your turn, then Anatomy then Beryl.
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #12

    The floppy eared fella had always had a knack for trouble. He earned his first battle scar in the Chamber raid as a mere colt, being dumb and hotheaded to guard his sister. While he came by his temper honest he had matured in some ways and dare we say, gotten smarter? He was planning on just passing through the forest but a lot of commotion caught his attention and a few voices that seemed too child-like to just pass through. Vaughan, though never a father himself had a tender spot for young children probably due to always protecting his partially blind sister. It is no surprise to him that he sees a colorful palette before him when he slinks toward the group. There is a large mare, graceful and demanding respect, two younger mares and two men -- if you can call them that.


    The black stallion walks confidently towards the group, his left ear swiveling forward as his right lies flat to the side of his head to give his best, "I'm friendly" as possible. Unfortunately he's lost most of the introductions but body language speaks more than words ever will - his mother taught him that. Warrior blood runs deep. "I'm sorry I've missed everyone's name but Pangea is the area you are searching for," he offers a sideways, but genuine, smile to the lady, "I'm Vaughan, Beqanna's resident vagabond but I'd be happy to show you the way." While he could be dangerous and let's face it, a smartass, he was kind (usually). "You two," referring to the young ladies, "do you have homes? I worry in the winter for what type of creatures lurk around here." His tongue is sharp and if possible would wrap around the neck of the paint stallion. He could sense his unease and it heightened every sense in himself. He waited, watching both men calculating but he realizes they probably also feel this way...but if they cared enough, they could fight him.

    They'd lose.

    v a u g h a n

    son of warship and kimber




    ooc omg i wrote this while my boyfriend was in the shower so it's short and nervous feelings lmao
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)