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06-16-2015, 11:00 PM
I Forget
I am unbidden
I forget what you
taught me, dear
father remind me
what was it you once said
what was it I once heard:
the voice for whom the heart stirs
the heart that stirs the voice to speak?
Oh father, please forgive me, oh
father, I forget.
ASHAMIN
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
But of course, he was never alone.
Tiamat had begun to follow Ashamin after meeting him in the Secret Grove, and though their travels had not always been strictly side by side (and he would admit that for a moment he had thought he had lost her in these woods,) he was not terribly surprised to see her emerge from the trees. As she parted the shadows with the light of her being, the painted buck smiled. It was genuine--the smile of comfort at the sight of familiar kindness.
The star-painted stallion, on the other hand, was more difficult for Ashamin to understand. He wasn't sure he'd ever met anyone so openly... faith, the stallion didn't even know what the word was. Openly what, informal? Or just bluntly honest? Disappointed was not the word, but perhaps, well, caught off guard. He had seen a stallion of such physical beauty and shocked himself with his own judgement: he had assumed a sort of worldly intelligence from one looking so clearly like he was plucked from the sky. From this other stallion's lips, he had expected a magnificent treatise on pain.
But perhaps that was more of a reflection on Ashamin than anyone else.
And perhaps that was what this character before him maintained, and perhaps it was simply a side Ashamin was not seeing right away. This, too, was something he knew he was wrong to assume. There was a wisdom to this other stallion's speech, just not one Ashamin had ever before seen. But the buck knew better than to narrow his understanding of such a thing as knowledge, particularly given that he was always in pursuit of it.
So with a small self-chiding, an insistence to clear himself of expectation, Ashamin returned the stallion's smile. A smile could go a long way in this land of magic and 'panions, he was learning that very quickly. And at the same moment that Tiamat stepped from the dark, introducing herself in those delicate tones that radiated sweetness, Ashamin incidentally drew close enough to the starry one to put forth his cheek, presenting an offer for the other stallion to touch it. Had he the gift of hindsight, then, some future version of himself looking back, perhaps Ashamin would have held off and not overwhelmed the stallion with the interaction.
Ashamin's tail waved at his back and beckoned Tiamat closer and to his own side. His face turned to hers instinctively, reaching to touch it, to feel the softness of her cheek again. She was kind; her touch was a rare welcome warmth, a distraction from his thoughts. For Ashamin's thoughts still linger on the lostness of which this stallion speaks. He feels, for a moment, a worry. Will he himself stay lost?
But the egg at his chest, so small and powerless, and the home that lay in the Northwest of anything but. Ashamin pulled back from the stallion to give him more space, drawing closer to Tiamat, creating at her side a unified front.
"I think," Ashamin said with a smile to his colleague, his fellow soon-to-be-Basin-member, "That one can find themselves, if their company is kind enough and they head in their direction together."
Yes, it was confidence that all this company had gifted him. First Zahra and now Tiamat. Perhaps this stallion would do the same for Ashamin. He lifted his head but kept his gaze trained lower, first casting a meaningful, pregnant glance at Tiamat before returning his eyes to the stallion. "I am Ashamin--the both of us are seeking a way out of this wandering. We are headed North, towards our home in the Aurora Basin."
Ashamin hesitated; he caught Tiamat's white eyes once more, as if searching for an answer in them. How could he invite this stallion home with them, when he didn't even know the stranger's name? He doubted it was 'flattered.' That failure to produce a moniker, that sort of... informality, again, irked him. What had the other stallion's reply even indicated? Had Ashamin been more aware, he would have recognized that the stranger was producing some sort of flirtatious dialogue. Had he been even more acute in his observation of himself, he would have noticed the reaction--the lash of his infinitely long tail and the struggle to keep his eyes wide when this stranger had spoken so boldly. He turned his gaze now entirely to Tiamat, watching her, hoping she would produce a response.
This confidence, it was a new look on the buck. But this dependence on others, even as he cradled unborn life to his breast, still, it always remained.
[[@[Tiamat], @[Atlas]]]
Table by Jen, with help from Avis
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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