• 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


    Thread Rating:
    • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
    • 1
    • 2
    • 3
    • 4
    • 5
    i feel a bad moon rising | Noah
    #1
    spice up
    that quote
    She travels west, though the low lands that separate red sylva from the sea. It would be quicker to fly, Lepis knows, but her first journey to the Brilliant Pampas had been by hoof, and she has made a habit of entering the place the same way ever since. There is no defining line between her kingdom and her territory, but the grasses grow taller until they brush her shoulders and the scent of wildflowers soon overpowers all others.

    There are more flowers than there had been when she’d first come, Lepis decides, and attributes that to Noah.

    It is that little red mare that she has come to see, though the dun first seeks out a creek to quench her thirst. Summer approaches quickly, and the air around her is warm and humid this near to the sea. Her navy mane and tail are heavy, unstirred by any wind, and she finds herself looking for shade as readily as she seeks out Noah’s familiar shape.

    "Noah?" She calls when she hears the sound of hooves. There are others here besdies her friend, Lepis knows. Tickaani’s herd (however many of them there might be) and perhaps still Cyprin and the spotted stallion that Castile had mentioned. "Is that you?"

    @[Noah]
    n | l
    #2
    The world changes around her, but even as years pass, her little home stays consistent. Perhaps it is because Noah stays consistent – or more likely, it’s because even through the turmoil that has rocked Loess several times, somehow those who have prevailed have always been her friends. Wolfbane. Castile. Lepis. Noah knows she has been more than lucky in her friends, especially since she has little to offer them except her friendship in return.

    Recently, the population of the Pampas has more than doubled. For so long it had been Noah, little Noma, and Aodhan; they’ve been joined now by her long-cousin Ryan and his herd, two mares and two children. The little roan mare has welcomed them into the fold with sincere joy, though she is still somewhat shy of the two strange mares and has been getting to know them quite slowly. Even their striped visitors – Noah is unsure if the mare and her foal will stay, but she has made an effort to make them feel welcome. In the darkest of night she had been worried about the newcomers, worried that it would make her small home feel overwhelmed, but that has not proven true. The increase size of her family has been a good thing.

    She’s on a walk alone, able to safely leave her yearling daughter with Ryan and his family; the last she’d seen, Noma had been holding her own against the eager advanced of her cousins on the shores of their pond. There had been no real destination in her mind when she’d started out, but a hint of a familiar scent pulls her northward until she has a glimpse of gold and blue, and a little smile starts to form on her face.

    Noah’s name floats back to her and she nickers quietly in response, trotting a couple of steps to close the distance between herself and the other mare. There’s a bright and welcoming expression on her face, and indeed she is glad to see Lepis clearly doing so well. Last time they spoke, Noah had not been at all at sure that her friend was well, or Wolfbane either, but this Lepis looks more relaxed and that is a balm to her worrying heart. “Lepis,” she greets quietly when she is close enough, “Welcome. It’s good to see you.” Noah reaches out and brushes a light touch to her friend’s shoulder, hoping until proven otherwise that this is merely a social catch-up visit.
    NOAH
    that's all there is
    the most loveliest of tables by jassal
    manip by devin | stock credits: @szmigieldesign at unsplash.com
    madishmade, darkbeforedawn23, xxtgxxstock, cactuskim, madetobeunique @ deviantart.com


    @[Lepis]
    #3
    i feel
    a bad moon rising
    The two of them are not tall, and Lepis hears the answering whicker before she sees the other mare wading through the long grasses. The greenery here has always reminded the pegasus of a terrestrial sea. The land itself seems to undulate in the wind when viewed from the higher hills, a vast green ocean that stretches all the way to the blue sea in the south.

    "It’s been too long since I visited you in spring," she tells the other mare, returning the brush against her shoulder with a touch of her own cheek to the far side of Noah’s neck, a quick embrace that is no less affectionate for all its brevity.

    She remembers all to well their last meeting, one that had been stifled (at least for Lepis) by the presence of Wolfbane. It had been a strange sensation, facing the woman who had given them shelter and then friendship.  The contrast between that day and this one is stark, and the absent weight on her chest all the more meaningful for it. A year, she thinks, a year since their last meeting. Too long. "It’s always too long." She says aloud, for Noah is one of the few creatures around whom she does not strenuously filter the space between her mind and her tongue.

    "How is Noma?" She asks with genuine interest, recalling the young filly who had clung to Noah’s heels in the Taigan woods. Noah’s first, she knows, and now a yearling. "I met a mare, Tickaani, and her son in the Field and she mentioned they live here. I hope they are good company for the two of you?"

    @[Noah]
    n | l
    #4
    “Spring is always the best time to visit the Pampas,” she says quietly, a smile flitting across her bright eyes and her face. She looks over Lepis and wonders for a moment if the other pegasus knows that she had been amongst Noah’s first friends, and how much that friendship means to her. But Lepis mentions Noma, and that brightens her face even more, and one of the mares who had come with her cousin.

    “Noma is quite well,” she offers, “growing like a weed, or like one of our wildflowers.” There’s the softest of laughs, the same low sound as her voice, and a slight tilt of her head as she considers the other. “Tickaani’s mate is actually my cousin. Ryan has brought his entire family here – there is another mare and her foal as well. It has been good for Noma to have playmates, and I am learning to enjoy sharing my fields with others again.” The quiet is always soothing to her, but she has also begun to learn to be soothed just as well by the comforting presence of those she loves. And while she is slow to truly give away her heart, she has grown fond of her newfound cousin and his family.

    But – Noah’s life is rather constant; with the exception of these new families, it has not changed much. Lepis lives a much more varied and chaotic life; she tilts her head a little and studies her friend’s face, looking for stress and unhappiness. “What of you? Are you ok?”
    NOAH
    that's all there is
    the most loveliest of tables by jassal
    manip by devin | stock credits: @szmigieldesign at unsplash.com
    madishmade, darkbeforedawn23, xxtgxxstock, cactuskim, madetobeunique @ deviantart.com
    #5
    i feel
    a bad moon rising
    Noah brightens at the mention of Noma, and Lepis knows it was the right question to ask. The topic of children is often an easy one, and while Lepis is a mother many times over and has long experience all of the joys, she is glad to see that her friend finds it enjoyable as well. The roan confirms what Tickaani has said, adding that the herdmaster that the blue mare had mentioned was her cousin. Lepis is glad that the red mare has company here, glad that she is no longer alone. Noah had never seemed lonely, of course, but it had never set well with the dun mare that her friend had been left behind when the Plague had ended. This place had been her home before the sickness had struck though, and Lepis had contented herself with the knowledge that at least Noah was not too far away.

    But then had come Taiga, and a year had slipped away, and then another.

    It’s better now, Lepis thinks. They are neighbors once more, as they should be.

    "I’m happy for you," she tells the roan mare with a fond smile.

    At Noah’s scrutiny, the smile does fade somewhat. It is only fair the question is turned about, Lepis knows, but she is still grateful that she can be truthful.

    "Better than I have been," she admits. Had she known Noah less time, cared less about her, that might have been the end of it. Yet as Lepis’ gray gaze turns to the endless sea of grass along the horizon, it is clear there is more she means to say. "I moved back to Loess last year," she says, hoping that the roan will hear what she doesn’t say aloud – that just she has returned to Loess. "and I took over when Castile lost his mind and razed a northern territory to the ground as a dragon." That last comes out far easier than the first admission has, and she even manages to raise a single brow as she turns her attention back to Noah, waiting for a response.

    @[Noah]
    n | l
    #6
    Sometimes, she lies awake at night and contemplates what she has learned about the Pampas. Some of the stories are her own – things her father had murmured during long evenings when it was just the two of them. Other tales have come from the few family members she has met since then – from Rhy and Leander, at first, and then to her utter bemusement from Nikkai, the matriarch of the family herself. The grulla mare had told Noah just to think of her as a distant aunt, if it made her feel better, but the yawning chasm of many generations doesn’t feel any smaller just because the magical entity has daughters now not much younger than Noah’s own.

    Even when she was alone, she could never have brought herself to leave the Pampas. But there had been times when she was lonely enough to consider it, after Wolfbane and Lepis had gone. Still, they had never been particularly far; almost like planets orbiting the same star. Noah’s galaxy is small: Wolfbane, Lepis, Castile, Leliana, her fledging family. 

    She is startled into quick movement, jerking her eyes away from the gentle undulations of the breeze through the meadow, when Lepis says she had returned to Loess alone. There’s a slow adjustment in her brain – it has always been WolfbandandLepis, whether they were here, or in Loess, or in Taiga, and it takes the little pegasus a moment to adapt to Just Lepis, and when she does she turns a worried frown on her friend. The statement about Castile is worrying as well, but she leaves it a moment because her priority is the wellbeing of her friend.

    Stepping closer, she reaches out to brush a light touch across the closest part of Lepis, green eyes soft. “Are you alright? Truly?” A faint part of her mind is clamoring loudly, alarmed and unhappy at the idea of Castile-as-a-dragon on the rampage, but she ignores it. A bigger part of her is content in the knowledge that Castile would never harm her or the Pampas, even out of control, and that Lepis would not be so calm either if it was still a threat. Still….she is worried about him too. “That doesn’t sound like Castile,”. It might be naïve, but Noah has never seen any part of Castile that wasn’t her friend, and she finds it hard to imagine. 
    NOAH
    that's all there is
    the most loveliest of tables by jassal
    manip by devin | stock credits: @szmigieldesign at unsplash.com
    madishmade, darkbeforedawn23, xxtgxxstock, cactuskim, madetobeunique @ deviantart.com


    @[Lepis]
    #7
    L E P I S
    i turned all the mirrors around

    The distance between Loess and the Pampas does not feel so far as Lepis settles in beside Noah. Her shoulder brushes the other’s companionably, and the dun mare finds herself relaxing despite the topic. This feels like old time, like happier times. Life has happened between then and now. Life and experiences that at first have her avoiding Noah’s gaze, looking north at the distant ride of Loess’ red hills. Home looks beautiful from here.

    When she looks back, Noah’s eyes are still on her, and Lepis sighs.

    It is a real sigh, one unsoftened by false projection or an expressionless mask. Lepis does pride herself on her honesty, and while she has not been untruthful, she caves in the green-eyed gaze of her long-time friend.  “No,” she says softly, “No, I am not.”

    She leans her head against Noah for just a moment, taking another deep breath the of the crisp air.

    “But I will be. When this is over, when everything is put back to rights, I will be.” It would be better for Lepis, perhaps, to put herself to rights first. But she does not have time for that. Not with all else she has to do. Some of these she shares with Noah as they talk beneath the clear sky – her friend Oceane trapped in Pangea, the fight with Celina a year ago and the slow reforming of their relationship, having promised flowers to a burnt land that was probably in need of more than beauty. She does not share the story of the child that grows still-invisibly in her belly though, and she responds only that: “Castile has done a great many things I did not expect of him.”

    A shadow passes overhead, a swallow swooping low over the Pampas grass. Lepis smiles, reminded of the way the Pteron and Marni would chase them. “I should probably get home before I am missed,” she tells Noah when the bird alights in a distant tree. “But let’s not let so much time pass before we see each other again. Why don’t you come visit for a while in spring? You can bring Noma and meet Oceane, and see what Loess looks like in full bloom. ”

    n | l




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)