[AW] hummingbird.

[Brenn]

brenn

inspire others, inspire yourself. music of the soul.

While it had not been hard for Brenn to get used to the court life - coming from a similar system himself - he still found himself roaming the gorgeous surroundings instead of doing something useful, like introducing himself to the court. This however needed to wait just a little longer as he walked through the sea of golden grass the plains held, currently having been touched with what seemed like a white blanket covering. While winter was definitely very much in place, his green cloak helped him shield from the worst of it. It also helped that the temperature had climbed to more comfortable temperatures in the mids of day. Solis be blessed, it was really helping his previous bad mood he has had before coming here.

Continueing his journey, Brenn found a fairly sturdy tree that had not been battered down too harshly by the cold nights and decided now would be a good time to rest his slightly tiring legs. Carefully, he leaned his painted body against the trunk, ears pinned forward to catch any sound that might come from it, but other than a slight protest of the wood nothing else came. With a soft sigh of relief, he let his sky blue eyes roam in front of him. The bison pack seemed to still be nearby, but keeping a respectful distance away. He could respect that, it was no use in agitating the wildlife. Especially since he was supposed to rest for a moment.

He could not help feeling jittery, though. It seemed as if an electric current was coursing through him, making him want to move, to run, to dance. He has always had difficulty standing still and taking a breather, now really seemed no different. He was determined to let his body recover, so he eventually closed his eyes, temporarily lowering some of his defences. He might be a little too confident in his ability to hear danger if it came to him, but at the same time he was standing in open ground and during his trek here he had not seen any predators. So he should be safe, right?

"speech"
ooc: open to everyone! ♥

♦♦♦

[Septimus]

TO ASK YOU TO TELL ME A STORY
about the sweet grass you planted - and tell it again / or again -

Septimus is sketching.

He’d noticed the bison before, of course, and there is technically nothing that distinguishes them from bison elsewhere (insofar as he has noticed, anyways), but, after finishing his map of Viride at the crack of Dawn this morning, he stretched out his wings and made for the Plains as quickly as possible. He needed a break, he thought, from minutia. He’d dedicated months to small things – plants and brown-feathered winter birds and every small detail of the forest landscape, or the riverbed, or the flowerless winter fields – and, as much as he enjoyed studying them, picking them apart, carefully attempting to determine species (and he’d found several cryptid species, which were a nightmare)… he felt like observing something larger for a while.

It hadn’t taken long to find a herd of bison. He’d settled down in a patch of grass when the morning air was still cold and crisp, tucked his wings in at his sides, and fluffed out their feathers like a blanket; and then he’d pulled out one of his emptier notebooks and a bit of charcoal, and he’d begun to sketch. Fortunately, the bison did not seem especially active today, so he was able to remain in place for several hours, carefully outlining each spiraling curl of their fur with elaborate detail.

Hours later – when it is finally afternoon – he is still there. It is still winter, and therefore cold, but, with the sun high in the sky, the temperature has grown far more tolerable. (Flying from Delumine to the plains, he was fairly sure that he’d gotten ice in his coat.) Septimus finishes a sketch, and, abruptly, decides to stretch, and perhaps look for another vantage point to study his subjects. He stands, wings outstretching, and shakes his head, sending the jewels on his antlers clacking against the bone.

With that, he starts to move towards the one other interesting thing in plain view of him – one great, old tree, sticking up from the prairie. As he moves closer and closer, moving quickly to heat himself up. He isn’t quite expecting to run into someone else on the Plains, not during this time of winter, but, as he approaches the tree, he realizes abruptly that he is not alone.

The man who is sheltered alongside the tree is, he judges, just a bit shorter than him, disregarding the antlers and the wings. His eyes are a bright, crisp shade of blue, and his coat is a mingling of snow white and seal brown; his lean frame hints at an active lifestyle. Septimus flashes him a grin, though he takes care not to let his lips curl up high enough to reveal his wolfish teeth. He’s been alive long enough to know that they tend to unsettle people.

“Oh,” Septimus says, his tone as chipper as ever, “hello there.”

(He’s rather grateful for the break that company provides.)

---

@Brenn || <3 || natalie diaz, "from the desire field"

"Speech!" 

@

[Brenn]

brenn

inspire others, inspire yourself. music of the soul.

While Brenn had not initially noticed the company he had found himself in, he answered the grin with one in his own. The other male seemed to be taller than him, if he tried to think away magnificent wings and a pair of decorated antlers. The man in question was definitely more than a sight to behold - even if he would never admit to something like that. The man's voice was chipper - one that did not immediately give him any flags he should stay away from this stranger. Though to be fair, he was not really one of the best judges of someones character once they had been nice to him, he much preferred to keep things friendly with anyone - no matter who they were or what they had done in their past.

With only a small amount of effort, he managed to switch over the back leg he had been resting on, muscles now properly protesting his lack of actual rest. He did try not to show this fact, though. Keeping his features in a kind grin as he ducked down his head in a small greeting. "Hello there yourself!" he replied brightly.

Brenn definitely did not mind not being alone and who knows, maybe he would eventually gain a friend out of it?

"speech"
ooc: short post ;-; ♥

♦♦♦

@Septimus

[Septimus]

TO ASK YOU TO TELL ME A STORY
about the sweet grass you planted - and tell it again / or again -

If the man is startled by his sudden appearance, and he might well be, it doesn’t much show in his features. His lips quickly tick up and into a bright smile to match his own, and he returns his greeting with a, Hello there yourself! If Septimus had been nervous at all about his reaction, any anxiety quickly dissipates from his frame, and he settles before him easily, a smile still drawn across his dark lips. He always finds himself fascinated by new people, particularly when they are friendly; the wide spectrum of mortality never ceased to amaze him. His siblings were all unique and strange in their own individual ways, but they were never unique and strange like mortals – at their core, they were always fae, and faewild to match.

(All the chaos and strangeness of his home realm could not quite match the spectrum of the mortal world. In time, even absolute strangeness became normal, when exposed to it for long enough. The wilds were a labyrinth of ever-changing pathways that went nowhere and everywhere at once, and, somewhere along the line, he’d found himself fond of something more stable.)

(He still doesn’t much like being mortal, though, much as he is trying to dedicate himself to his so-called experiment.)

If he weren’t several thousands of years old (if not older), he might have felt odd about introducing himself to perfect strangers whenever he stumbled upon them. Given that he was, however, Septimus had long ago gotten over any sense of awkwardness that came with meeting new people. “I’m Septimus,” he says, cheerfully, “a scholar from Delumine. I’m out here studying the bison.” Septimus tilts his head, then, with a clink of bright green stones, curiosity working its way into his features; his brow quirks up, and the corners of his lips twist. “Who might you be?”

Perhaps, he thinks, this expedition won’t be quite so mundane as he expected.

---

@Brenn || <3 || natalie diaz, "from the desire field"

"Speech!" 

@