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01-19-2016, 07:22 AM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Barely had he finished speaking before more things awoke in the early light, but where the owls slept calmly, safe and content upon their friend's back, this one had not. Sleep-haunted eyes found the duo, but no words were spoken. Perhaps whatever had driven his body into such a state had stolen his words, too; dark patches of sweat were slowly being claimed by frost. Mauja watched him approach in silence. They all had their demons. Mauja struggled with his when he was awake. It seemed Tembovu wrestled his while asleep.
He wondered which would be the most pleasant—to suppress everything when awake, but to twist and turn in sleep, or to at least sleep easy but feel like a nightmare walking.
Useless.
Both options sucked.
So he gave his head a gentle shake, and offered Tembovu a small smile by way of greeting. And thus, their odd formation was settled: three relatively tall stallions standing side by side, facing the glass wall together. Like three newcomers, except none of them were, as it turned out. Mauja stood in the middle, the owls on his back, Tembovu's cold-wet flank brushing against his with each breath. Part of him wanted to ignore this stranger, to bully Tembovu into a glade somewhere and force him to the ground, collapse upon him and sleep tangled up in his bulk and warmth, but politics prevented him. Politics, the occupation of the damned. Mauja was no longer a figure of influence here, but if Tembovu was too riddled with nightmares to deal with this, what choice did he have but to pick up that mantle again, if only for now?
So he listened and thought, rifling through his memories for names he did not find. Destrier was vaguely familiar, like something he might've heard once or twice, but someone he had probably never met. He couldn't place a face to the name, nor an occupation or an alignment. If they had belonged to the World's Edge chances were they were over in the Falls now. "I am Mauja," he simply said at first, before gesturing to the tall man nearly hidden beside him. "And this is Tembovu." By old habit he didn't include the King's title—people would follow by virtue of his blood, not the title he claimed. Still, he hoped the tall man would not be slighted (why would he, though?). It was not like Mauja made any claims to be leader instead of him (maybe just in his stead?). "As for your family, I don't precisely recall Destrier, but the majority of the old herd left for the Hidden Falls—perhaps you would find him there. However," and he paused for a breath, glancing at Tembovu before forging on, "I am certain you would be welcome here, if that is your wish."
One does not have to follow ones parents, after all. We are all free to make our own destinies.
[ Mau was standing next to Luken facing the same direction as him (as he came from outside Helovia and not within the Edge), that's how we ended up in this odd formation. ;D ]
He wondered which would be the most pleasant—to suppress everything when awake, but to twist and turn in sleep, or to at least sleep easy but feel like a nightmare walking.
Useless.
Both options sucked.
So he gave his head a gentle shake, and offered Tembovu a small smile by way of greeting. And thus, their odd formation was settled: three relatively tall stallions standing side by side, facing the glass wall together. Like three newcomers, except none of them were, as it turned out. Mauja stood in the middle, the owls on his back, Tembovu's cold-wet flank brushing against his with each breath. Part of him wanted to ignore this stranger, to bully Tembovu into a glade somewhere and force him to the ground, collapse upon him and sleep tangled up in his bulk and warmth, but politics prevented him. Politics, the occupation of the damned. Mauja was no longer a figure of influence here, but if Tembovu was too riddled with nightmares to deal with this, what choice did he have but to pick up that mantle again, if only for now?
So he listened and thought, rifling through his memories for names he did not find. Destrier was vaguely familiar, like something he might've heard once or twice, but someone he had probably never met. He couldn't place a face to the name, nor an occupation or an alignment. If they had belonged to the World's Edge chances were they were over in the Falls now. "I am Mauja," he simply said at first, before gesturing to the tall man nearly hidden beside him. "And this is Tembovu." By old habit he didn't include the King's title—people would follow by virtue of his blood, not the title he claimed. Still, he hoped the tall man would not be slighted (why would he, though?). It was not like Mauja made any claims to be leader instead of him (maybe just in his stead?). "As for your family, I don't precisely recall Destrier, but the majority of the old herd left for the Hidden Falls—perhaps you would find him there. However," and he paused for a breath, glancing at Tembovu before forging on, "I am certain you would be welcome here, if that is your wish."
One does not have to follow ones parents, after all. We are all free to make our own destinies.
[ Mau was standing next to Luken facing the same direction as him (as he came from outside Helovia and not within the Edge), that's how we ended up in this odd formation. ;D ]
Mauja
the white queen
