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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


    something wild calls you home
    #11
    The secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
    Eurwen

    With so many present, the conversation gets interrupted many times, but the most pressing one is the grey mare’s sharp, disproving -and wary? Scared wasn’t the word to use with this woman, but it came surprisingly close- tone. What does she know of dragons? ”More than I care to know,” she shrugs honestly, ”Though it certainly differs which one you’re talking about. There’s one or two in the south I would not recommend trying to befriend, but as it happens, my father has no such inklings to randomly burn that I know of. When one dragon burned the Isle, two stood up to defend it.” Really, she is pretty neutral on the subject, and it shows through her body language and tone. ”It’s no different from any other powerful magic - it all depends on the wielder.” As she mentions that, she tilts her head at the grey mare to catch her reaction, pretty certain that there must have been a history there. She withholds for the moment that her daughter spits acidic ice and has uncanny-looking fangs to match, though thankfully the young pink and green overo is not scaled, clawed, or dragon-marked in any other way that Eurwen knows of.

    Her attention is snapped to Scorch when the latter tells her Wen never made time for her, which they both know isn’t entirely true. She doesn’t remember the burnt mare making a lot of time to tell such tales either, probably due to the fact that she had other people to bother with her presence; like her mom, Wishbone, and Heartfire. ”I blame my sisters,” she nevertheless claims with a smile on her face - Chryseis and Oisín had always been the wild ones, and Eurwen’s two adventures had been some sort of exception, out of some kind of duty she thought she might have towards the world. Not that she really owed them anything as a foal and yearling; perhaps it was her Amazonian blood speaking, perhaps she had wanted to tell her stories to her sisters to show them she wasn’t really scared like they would usually say.

    Nevertheless, it was nearing a decade ago, and the conversation moves forward like a rapid river anyway. ”Rubble? Swamp?” The pink-spotted mare looks over the moors and cliffs, shaking her head slightly at the mares’ words. ”Clearly you haven’t visited in a long time,” she tells her grandmother; she even dares lifting a pebble and casually throwing it to her head; softly, true, but the message is there. ”Nerine has not become a place to sit around and wait for you to come insult her.” she huffs a little, but her dark eyes take a certain shine of playfulness anyway. ”As currently longer-standing diplomat of Nerine I might be inclined to promote and degrade you in the same hour if you keep this up.” she calls only semi-seriously, eyeing Neverwhere once in the process. She doesn’t really think the silver dapple would actually care what they call the land, and neither does she, but she guesses someone should at least attempt to defend Nerine’s honor. Just a tad, anyway. But if she knows the khaleesi as she thinks she does, she would happily let Eurwen degrade her grandmother indeed, just for the idea of it.



    @[Neverwhere]
    #12

    Neverwhere snorts roughly into the gathering, fixing what should be a blind eye onto the aptly named Scorch.

    "Eurwen could certainly do that, she's fickle, y'know, can't stay on any idea very long," this is enormously untrue of the spotted mare at her side, but the words hang briefly in the air unchallenged before she continues, a reckless grin curling across blemished lips, "but I could promote you above her and then you'd be free of that nonsense. Will Queen do? I'm due a vacation, I think."

    She turns to Aletta with the hint of a smirk still lingering on her lips, "I'm afraid if you aren't keen on dragons you won't enjoy your time in Beqanna, they're rampant as rats. There's none currently living here in Nerine," they keep a different sort of monster, she thinks, and briefly wonders how the dappled grey would react to Fiorina, "anyway, none to my knowledge."

    Neverwhere says this knowing full well that she does not keep her borders as tightly as other leaders do, that she does not worry deeply about the comings and goings of others or concern herself over who wishes to stay. There is only one creature she desires to be free from, and friendly or not, she cares nothing for anyone else. There is a very good chance that there are dragons living in Nerine and she has simply not stumbled on them yet in her travels.

    "This pile of rubble has an extensive history, as I have been frequently told. It's quiet, for now, but all things pass. With any luck, that will be on someone else's shoulders."

    Reluctant queen. There had been no-one else for Heartfire to reach in that brief moment, and there had been no-one to easily pass the job onto that would have wanted it. The bald-faced mare thinks rather skeptically that she would not have trusted anyone that came to her and offered to take the crown. She had not known any of them, and there had been so many coming to pick away at the silent northern kingdom. Her stubborn scowls had kept it whole, even if they had done nothing else.

    "We've had a fire in the South, the scrub trees aren't quite recovered, and there's a magician in the sea, but otherwise I think you'll find Nerine mostly unchanged," she turns back to Scorch, even the magician may be familiar to the former queen, "not many bogs until you get back to Taiga."



    @[Scorch]




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