Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.
no one there to shame me for my youth ; ISCAIE Posted on May 1, 2021 at 05:16:35 PM by mag
She’s starting to second guess her break for freedom. There’s no one; no fresh hoof marks on the wet sand behind her, none in the unmelted patches of snow before her, no dots on the horizon that she can head towards for fresh experiences.
She’s lost in her thoughts, a downward spiral of self-doubt and indecision when she hears it. Iscaie glances up at the friendly nicker, ears pricking forward and eyes brightening. A smile spreads across her face when she sees the stallion approaching. He’s older, probably of an age with her father, but distinctly not anyone she’s related. Her gaze slides over him, how tall and lean he is. His coat is painted like hers, splotches of white breaking up a gorgeous silvery color, with bright green eyes.
Iscaie has never seen eyes like that, and she’s immediately caught in his gaze. When his gaze finally slips away from her, Iscaie feels like she can breathe again so she takes in a shaky breath and responds. “Hi,” and she could kick herself for how young and breathy and shamefully eager she sounds. A stallion like this, so handsome and confident, she needs to come across as….suave and mature and not a child. But as soon as she resolves this, he’s looking at her again and his eyes linger as he says beautiful and Iscaie knows she’s blushing. Her breath catches again as he extends his muzzle, but she copies him, stretching to exchange a warm breath in the cool morning.
They pull apart, although Iscaie finds herself reluctant at the space and takes a half-step forward, placing herself almost boldly within his space. That bravery doesn’t last long, though, because she hears the word king slip out of his mouth, identifying himself as someone so far above her that she’s startled. Her head comes up in surprise, and she steps back, ears twitching and surprise written in every line of her body.
“I’ve...never been to Tinuvel,” she offers, at a loss for anything else to say. She’s used to the deep, dank green forests of her fathers small home. What she knows of Tinuvel is that it is cold and snowy and dead, nothing like the towering trees and thick undergrowth she grew up in. Change is good, though, isn’t it? Change is what she sought.
“I didn’t think I would see anyone else, let alone a King” Iscaie says quietly, and then glances away at his next question, unwilling to let him see just how thrown she is and how little experience she has with speaking to strangers. “Is it really that obvious? I’ve never been here before - I’ve never been anywhere before.” Iscaie lets out with an embarrassed little laugh. So it’s patently clear, then, that she’s a sheltered child. Not the image she wanted to paint for him before she knew he was a king. Now that she does know, it’s even worse.
Her, isolated, from nowhere and nothing, speaking to a king. He’s interested enough still to ask after her name, and she calms a little, drifts back in closer to him with a shift of her weight and a not-so-subtle inhale of the warm, comforting scent of a stallion. After going from a family who lived on top of one another to being alone, Iscaie is desperate for closeness, missing something she always took for granted.
“No guessing needed,” Iscaie says with a grin. “I’m Iscaie, of...well, nowhere now, I guess.” Confirming it out loud suddenly makes it scarier, a little more real that she’s got no home. If she doesn’t find someone to take her in, she knows it’s off to the Peak for her, to live with the other homeless mares. “I ran away, she offers suddenly. “My aunt died, and when everyone was looking at her and finally ignoring me, I ran as fast as I could. My mother was never going to let me go anywhere, otherwise, and my father cared little as long as she was happy.”
It stings to say out loud, that she was an afterthought. Not a desired child, not treasured by her father, but something tolerated only to keep her mother pleasant. “She’d only be happy if I was at her side forever, I think, and I wanted more than staying with my family for the rest of my life.” It sounds a little young and selfish, but Iscaie is desperately glad to be sharing this, desperately glad for someone to talk to. “Why are you here?” Iscaie asks him. “A kingdom to rule at home and instead I meet you wandering the Commons. Replies: