All Welcome !! not one without the other

wren

How can I be substantial if I do not cast a shadow?

In the moments between, when she was not glancing over her shoulder or standing exhausted guard of her sister's trembling figure, Wren doubted. She was not one for inaction, for low self-esteem. Things simply were, and she just as simply reacted to them. But in the dark of the night, her cold lips pressed soothingly to Kindred's nape, Wren wondered if they could do this. If she could do this. Was she as capable as they had instructed her to be, or was that merely another inflated lie that Wren would have to inevitably dismantle?

Even with this quiet, hissing voice in the back of her mind, Wren did not let it pause her steps. She swept through the exhaustion with fierce rigor, jaw clenched until the ache of her molars stretched into her temples and the pain kept her awake. There was nothing to be done now about her second-guessing. There was only Kindred, their pursuers, and the path before them. A lonely escape into the wilderness beyond their graveyard home, Kindred's silent haze imposing a muteness to the world that Wren did not know how to cope with. It felt unnatural, her twin's lack of commentary. Since birth it had always been Wren who struggled to string words together, Kindred the one to fill the silence with her mellifluous tones. Left alone with only her thoughts and the shell of her sister's body, Wren stewed in a hatred so profound and well-tended that it warmed her cold bones through the winter as they traveled. Anger was an emotion familiar and forbidden to her, a curse against clear thought and practiced violence.

"You cannot feel, Wren. If you do, you have already failed. You must be cold, you must be calculating, or you are useless."

Hell take you, she spits internally, ghost eye glinting in the half-light of dusk. They were wrong about everything else, and though she fears - in some unspeakable way that she does not have the words or experience to define - that she is too broken and disciplined to feel properly, it does not dissuade her from trying.

By the time they reach the imposing forest, with its mangled path and imposing darkness, Wren has not seen any sign of pursuit in well over a fortnight. She is not so naive as to believe they are free, but at least they are safe. She speaks this to her sister, whose eyes - though still fogged with a demon that Wren cannot fight for her - flicker and attempt to pitifully meet her own. "Safe? Yes...staying..." her twin breathes, and Wren swallows down her relief and gratitude. This is not the end of their journey, she will not fail her sister in these last moments. Wren may have been the herald of death, but it is hope that she always strives to deliver to Kindred instead.

As one they move together into the darkness, scattered light illuminating their shared ivory spots in flashes. Wren keeps a wing against her sister's side at all times, a gripping fear of losing her in these brambles taking hold of her heart. It is difficult to maneuver through the wooded confines, even harder to keep direction, but there is a tugging in her soul that tells her - intuitive and instinctual as she is - that they are on the right path. When Kindred shudders to a stop, Wren's little legs stop immediately in turn. Her name warbles unsteadily off Kindred's lips, and Wren turns immediately to face her sister and provide her wholehearted attention. To hear Kindred speak more than a mumble of a word feels like breaking from beneath the ice she has been trapped under, frozen and paralyzed by the cold of solitude she has been left in, and gulping in breaths of fresh air. Her primaries tremble with emotion, with gratitude. She will not be left alone in this world she cannot faithfully interact with.

"We are not in circles," she rumbles soothingly, letting both wings arc forward to embrace Kindred as her soft muzzle reaches for her dark cheek. "Will make it out, I promise. You trust me?" She gazes imploringly through her lashes, though Wren already knows the answer to this question she poses. Their trust lies only in each other, these days. It only ever had. But it is a comforting phrase to the both of them, and Kindred's confirmation will only imbue Wren with the courage and strength to keep moving forward when lethargy pulls at her very marrow.

Nervously twitching her battered tail, the faebird takes a shaky breath. There is a risk in breaking the silence they have traveled underneath. It has protected them in their journey, allowing swift departure, but the time has come to seek new allies. Though Wren would rather exist on her own with only Kindred at her side, her desires are meaningless. Kindred deserved a kind home, a herd, the protection of loyalty that was supposed to be offered. Not that Wren fully believed these tales, with how sheltered they had both been. Still...it was a risk she would have to take. They had to find a guide, someone to lead them forward into their new lives. She would have to hope that her eyes had not failed her, that they were truly no longer being followed.

Lifting her head to the sky, braid tickling the arch of her neck, Wren called into the air. It was a sound made rusty from disuse, but a call for attention nonetheless. As her breath left in whisps and her lungs deflated to end her song, she tucked her head against Kindred's mane and made a soft humming sound.

"We will find safety," she vows. Her ghost eye glints with malice beneath the moonlight, staring out into the distance with a vengeful gaze.

Let the bastards come, if they still follow. I will kill them all.

I must have a dark side if I am to be whole.

The forest had always been a sort of haven for Sloane. It provided her the seclusion that she had grown to love and yet, it was interesting enough to keep her attention. Since coming to Novus, the Viride Forest had been a constant source of drama that kept life interesting. Shortly after arriving, it had been set ablaze by a troupe of squirrel that could self-combust. The fire they sprouted on their backs damn near killed the whole forest and all of Dawn Court. It had been a random, freaky thing and yet, it had been quite interesting and unique. Sloane had made her first impressions on that day. She didn’t think she had made very good impressions, but they were impressions.

Not too long after that, a mysterious monster had killed two Dawn Court citizens along the edge of the forest that backed up to the river. Sloane had witnessed the dead bodies, their limbs torn from their bodies in a way that was animalistic and without care. That very monster still ran loose somewhere in this very forest. Sure, it was scary to think that with as much as she preferred traveling alone, that she could potentially be the next victim of the forest creature. And yet, there was some beauty in knowing that she was walking the fine line between death and chaos.

What drew her into the forest this particular morning could be not determined. She had spent some time on the island that seemed to sprout out of the middle of fucking nowhere. She had searched for the lost relic but really hadn’t turned up much luck. And yet, she still wondered about it. She had no use to ancient relics, but she did have a use to knowledge and secrets. Those things could be bought and sold. Eventually, money would be of consequence and it would be her method of bartering that would hold true against the test of time.

But she is here now, wandering the forest and quietly thinking amongst herself. She is unsure of exactly how long she has been in the solace of the forest, but it has been nearly all day. She remembered leaving just before dawn, but now it was the moonlight that lit her path, not the sun. Her steps are slow, meandering, going nowhere and somewhere all at the same time.

It wasn’t until she hears something that causes her to pause. Eyes look all around her looking for what might have made the call. If it was the monster, he had another thing coming. If it was another individual, then they were either stupid or new.

Deciding that she would at least make some attempt to investigate, Sloane alters her course. She follows in the direction of where the sound appeared to come from. It doesn’t take her long before she comes upon the two in an embrace meant only for lovers (for Sloane has never been close enough to another soul to understand the true meaning of friendship). One thing was for certain, it wasn’t a monster that made the call. That being said, these idiots probably called it to them.

She came another few paces before she stopped. Breath heaved out a sigh as she looked at the two of them. They looked similar and yet different, much like her own triplet siblings looked. These two were related, she was sure of it. This news made it all the more awkward to catch them in such an embrace. “You might want to get a room. The forest isn’t exactly the most secret of places.” She doesn’t care that she’s making assumptions. She doesn’t care that these two are inseparable. She also doesn’t really care if the monster jumps out at this very moment and eats the two of them alive. At least she doesn’t have to play welcoming committee anymore.

@Kindred @Wren

Not lovers? The two could have fooled her. She’d seen it all, mares loving mares, stallions loving stallions, and even the occasional individual loving an object. It didn’t really phase her now as it had when she was a wee bit younger. People could love and fuck whoever they wanted as long as they didn’t impede Sloane on whatever mission she had set out on. As long as they generally stayed out of her way, they weren’t a problem for her.

However, the fact that these two were not lovers and caught in such an embrace was interesting to say the least. Since they were not lovers, as the first so quickly put, then what were they? Surely they were bonded, close emotionally to one another, perhaps friends or sisters. Sloane never quite understood the bond between two best friends or the bond between sisters. Yes, she had a sister, two in fact, but she never felt as though she would embrace either one in such a manner. And a friend? Well, let’s just say that Sloane is lacking such relationships. No one, save for poor Imopoea, had ever even bothered trying to call her friend. Sloane wasn’t exactly friend material. She didn’t love fiercely, protect with her life, divulge her secrets for free, etc. She was more a one woman show.

She watches the two of them, watching how the more dominant of the two seems to shield her companion, her eyes staring Sloane down as if she was the one to be feared. Sloane only met her threatening gaze with a gaze of her own, this one full of warning. Sloane was not a fighter, she never had been, but she was not at all opposed to making enough ruckus that the monster who roamed this forest came to finish off the two trespassers.

The start of a smirk pulls at the corners of her lips as the other addresses her simply on her gender alone. “Mares…” She responds with a snarky sort of sarcasm that only Sloane could muster up. As if to add to the sarcasm of the moment, she gently cocks her hip as she waits. Don’t keep Sloane waiting too long. Do so and you’ll find that the only sort of conversation you’ll be having with her is one in which she’s walking away.

Perhaps Sloane had thought they had some sort of important business. Important business meant that there was knowledge to be known and secrets to be sold. But then the stranger kept talking, this time asking about a haven of sorts. Sloane sighs, her interest in these mares quickly fading. They wanted safety. But at what cost? What would she have to do in order to keep them safe? What did they have to offer her?

The speaker of the pair seemed to understand her unspoken words, offering their skill set: a soldier and a medic. Somnus might have use for the two of them, even if she didn’t. But it was the way in which she announces their name that almost makes her chuckle. That grin spreading like wildfire across her lips. “Sloane. Nobody.” It was said in a manner similar to how a Native American might say “How!” It was short and without emotion. She has to hold herself from busting out in a complete laugh. It was hard, but Sloane was accomplishing the task.

And then it comes: the inevitable question of help. Sloane sighs as she motions behind her. “Somnus might have use for you…”…because I simply do not. The only real use these mares had was stories. Stories and knowledge that she might be able to sell at a later point. Slowly she turns, her gait picking up pace as she leads the two towards the capital. Somnus would want to meet them, she supposed. Head peered over their shoulder, waiting to see if they were going to follow her. “Keep up…I don’t slow down for stragglers.” It was blunt and matter of fact. She wouldn’t hold back for anyone. If the monster showed up today, she’d be the first one out of this forest, leaving the two of them as bait.

@Kindred @Wren