He had never met anyone that wasn't entranced by the sea, and he figured that it made sense well enough; the waters danced to a rhythm no one knew, they hissed and roared and chortled, they engulfed empires and survived past anything that anyone had ever known. Yet, Raglan found that he was immune to the siren song of the ocean. He couldn't quite care about the salty, briney mess and it's love of devouring innocents then bashing their limp corpses along the rocks. In fact, one could say that the yearling resented the ocean. Indeed, for as the youth stood upon the sands with his gaze tracing the horizon, he could feel his top lip curl in distaste.
"Beautiful things are never really all that beautiful if you get close enough," he muttered, voice whisked away by the seaweed scented breeze that ran lukewarm fingers through silvery strands and riffled over feathered wings.
Running his tongue over his freshly polished teeth, Raglan made a mental note to thank Camdis Lohir yet again for the seemingly bottomless pit that was the Regent's generosity; the yearling hadn't had to pay for even the most petty expenses since taking up residence within the fortress. In return, all the horned stallion asked was that Raglan continued with his studies and worked as his assistant - an easy enough task for the clever lad.
The thought of his improving station caused the rogue's countenance to smooth out, all traces of disgust and resentment fading away to resemble something almost peaceful. Yes, he supposed that he had much and more to enjoy from his short life and that he should refrain from judgement as best he could, but resistance and moderation had never been strong suits for the Street Crow.
The probably never would be, either.
@Ipomoea and anyone else! Sorry for crappy post, im still learning about my baby
Rhoswen found reprieve, at last, upon the ocean's edge - uncertain where the water began and the land ended. Her hooves sank deeper into the sand as the silver girl rolled her head backward, tipping it up toward the sky and the heavens above. Solis poured his gold kiss upon and against her skin, as though it were his most precious gift. Years ago, in her very early youth, Rhos scoffed at the mere existence of a divinity in the clouds above, and yet, as she had aged something in her heart had changed. And her dreams had changed with it - where they had once been damp and empty but for the shallow desires of mortality, now they were white and emblazoned with decorative imagery. Once or twice the redhead had even imagined Solis' broad handsome face; of course they were just that, though: dreams. She was no sage, or witch. Not once had she dreamt of Caligo; that dark-skinned woman had haunted her nightmares for a lifetime too long - good riddance.
As the sound of gentle crashing waves played out peacefully like her favourite track, Rhoswen opened her grey eyes at last, thoughts turning toward home now. It was so hellishly dry in Solterra, more than even she could bear at the moment, hence her frequent excursions. (That and the fact Maxence had pinned a bloody post-it note in the court; something about toil and strife - her queue for a hasty exit) Rhoswen rolled her eyes then, physically recoiling at the thought of having to work the land as though she were a field hand. The horror! With a resigned sigh she knew however that at some point there would be no way around the physical aid needed for Solterra to flourish, but for now, she sure as hell was going to take all the ways around.
A voice, low and faint, came to the avian girl on the breeze, and she snapped her head up the shoreline. There, not too far off was a winged boy the colour of dried blood, his long spindle-like legs holding him before the lapping water. Raglan. One of her brother's infamous Crows; she remembered the very day Reich had turned up at her chambers with the usual crowd only to notice a new addition - Rhos never thought she'd see something so leggy again. But she had taken her leave of Denocte soon after, and she wondered if he even remembered her. Rhoswen stared at the young pegasus for a moment, contemplating whether to approach or whether to cherish a moment longer of this peace. A scornful breath fell from her lips, who was she kidding; when had the girl of wolfblood and hurricanes chosen peace over people. Gossamer limbs as long as a sunlit highway carried the Day Courtian easily over the sand, salt spraying at her hair causing it to curl even tighter in rings of red.
"You're far from home, kiddo. Meager pickings by the ocean, don't you think? She teased, a nod to his nimble hands and endless pockets. Rhoswen beamed, a laugh born in the hollow of her lungs.
It had been the restless thoughts occupying his mind that had sent him south, past fields and forests alike. His legs had already seemed to know the way, muscle memory taking over while his mind turned over and over, quite oblivious to his surroundings. Lush grass had given way under hoof to rocks and crushed shells before the sand had deepened, hooves sinking deep beneath his weight. Salt spray tugged at his mane, the deadening crash of the waves mere yards away filling his ears and adding to the white noise in the background, a background for his mind to churn against.
”My Emissary.” Kasil’s words still reverberated through his mind, the implications of the role taking some time to sink in.
Thoughts still occupied, Ipomoea’s sooty head lowered to the water lapping at his ankles in inspection. Without thinking his lips parted, a rush of seawater filling his mouth in the instant that followed. The bitter taste was enough to shock sense back into the cherry boy, his delicate frame recoiling from the foul water and spitting it out from between his lips. “Note to self, never drink from the sea…” he muttered to himself, pawing in a small act of revenge at the waves. The purposeful movement was enough to further clear his mind, the clouds rolling slowly away from his befuddled senses.
The sound of voices broke through that fog, catching his attention somewhere far off to his right. Thankful for the distraction—other people would surely be enough to keep him out of his own mind—he headed towards them immediately. The water churned and splashed around his body as he made way towards shore, foam and silt bubbling out behind him in a crude trail which slowly dissipated with the waves. He missed the pale woman’s joke, but her laugh was clear and her smile free, and Ipomoea caught up to them in the midst of it. “Hello!” he called, pulling his sodden self closer. “Beautiful day to spend by the water, is it not?”
!!!.
@Raglan @rhoswen
sorry for disappearing i’m back now, promise!
unaware of where i'm going
or if i'm going anywhere at all
but i know i'll take the leap if it is worth the fall
You're far from home, kiddo. Meager pickings by the ocean, don't you think? Brow creasing, the youth was about to bite back with a clever remark - penance for interrupting his angsty ocean moment - when something sparked within that jeweled skull of his. Brows shooting up, Raglan's head snapped upward and he swung his horned head in the direction of that voice - of her voice. Opalescent eyes widening as he took in her svelte form and those red gold locks, the Silvertongue felt an elated grin blossom over his shocked expression. "Rhos?!" Came his overjoyed greeting, mind racing back to the first time that he had been victim to her playfully cutting remarks.
Moving toward her, Raglan dipped into a bow, his gaze never leaving her own and the awe apparent on his face, "You're every bit as stunning as the day you left us." He had never bothered with making his feelings toward the sister of his commander a secret.
His voice was soft, reverent, as if he were talking to a goddess - and maybe he was, given the way he held Rhoswen above anything and everything in his mind. Straightening, the Crow felt a disbelieving laugh fall from his lips to the sand, "I never - you never - where is...?" He gave another laugh, louder and fuller this time, shaking his head to get his muddled thoughts in line. "What I'm trying to say, is I'm glad to see you. How have you been? Where have you been?" Of course, it wouldn't be seemly for Raglan to keep strict tabs on Rhoswen, especially when she was involved with another Crow, so out of respect for the woman that he had loved since the moment he saw her and out of respect for her Quicksilver, the gilded son of the streets had left Rhoswen's secrets alone.
He took another step closer, drawn toward her like the tide toward the shore, when a stranger appeared within the realm of the pair's reunion. Smile slipping from his lips only to reappear within a second, Raglan gave another small bow to the newcomer and ushered them closer with a flick of a wing. "I rather despise the ocean, but apparently it dredges up wonderful company, so I can't help but agree with you, friend," His adolescent voice was warm and filled with cheer, the Silvertongue genuinely glad to meet someone new. "I'm Raglan, and this is Rhoswen," the softening of his eyes and the way his voice caressed her name was unmistakable, but the roguish youth knew better than to believe that anything would come of his affections.
Indeed, he had made his peace with that long ago.
@Ipomoea @Rhoswen hello! I'm bippity boppity back! im so excited about this thread too~
