(SE) cigarette daydreams

fire in the ground between my teeth, we're dancing on the poison in their graves
at the end of the night, we'd all seen better days

The Flood is Governor no longer.

It’s like a breath of fresh air, a moment of reprieve, a realization of what truly mattered in his life and it certainly would no longer be based off of the opinions of others. So he flies, tri-colored wings lifting him to the sky, over the dreary yet vibrant hues of the Oerwoud, to nowhere in particular.

There’s nothing that binds him to Torchline, to ensure its safety any longer, and for the first time the paranoia slips away. And with the easing of his worries and fears, playfulness replaces it. The Pegasus spies a horde of gourds moving through the Undergrove and he lowers himself to it, landing a bit away but in the trajectory of the gourds, waiting with wings flared and head lowered, waiting for them to bound their way through the bushes to knock them around as if they were simply soccer balls.

i know you tried, i know you're cursed, i know your best was still your worst

SUNJATA

we can't change what stays and what fades away

Even filled with vagrant gourds, the Undergrove is beautiful. Long tunnels lead to caverns lit by bright plants and singing insects; the dappled sunlight that permeates the overgrowth lends an air of magic to the subterranean expanse. The smell of damp earth grounds Amalia; her toes press into soft, dry loam, and she heaves a sigh of simple content, delighted to be alive in a world with so much beauty. It's a perfect day, peaceful even--

--except, of course, for the pegasus who has decided to barge into the underbrush, intent on playful destruction. Turning a sharp corner, Angel and starwhale find themselves faced with the unlikely scene: a winged horse, blue and white and purple, playing... soccer? With hapless gourds. It's enough to make Amalia pull up short, blinking rapidly, bemusement in her face. "Uh.... hello," she calls out brightly, giving the (presumptive) wild animal a chance to recognize her before stepping any closer. "This hardly seems like the kind of place for a creature as handsome as you."

Amalia

fire in the ground between my teeth, we're dancing on the poison in their graves
at the end of the night, we'd all seen better days

A rustle in the bushes has Sunjata’s dished ears perking forward, nostrils flaring as his black and white nose bats another pumpkin to roll away into the underbrush. His head lifts, spying Amalia of all people, and when the words fall from her lips there’s an edge of amusement that’s sent across the attuned bond for her to feel. He debates telling her who he is off the bat, but it can wait he thinks. Still, the compliment has his feathers lifting as he preens slightly.

It’s a good thing he’s decided to wait to tell her though, because another pumpkin comes his way and his head cranes as he lowers it to the ground, wings dropping a bit in his focus to nudge a pumpkin off to its side, rolling it over to Amalia, hooves planted in the earth with perked ears and a bob of his head as if he’s suggesting she roll the pumpkin back his way.

It’s probably better she doesn’t know it’s him yet.

i know you tried, i know you're cursed, i know your best was still your worst

SUNJATA

we can't change what stays and what fades away

She picks up pleasure and surprise through the Attuned bond, and beneath it something almost familiar, like a half-forgotten song. Blinking, Amalia takes a step forward, her eyes narrowing as she stares at the pegasus. Have they met before...?

She's distracted from this half-recognition by the appearance of a new gourd, and its subsequent change in trajectory. Laughing lightly, the girl extends a foot to stop the errant pumpkin short, nudging it towards her as it scrambles on flailing vines. "You want it back?" she questions playfully, looking back up at the pegasus. A nagging part of her wonders if she ought to stop, to investigate that memory further, to avoid hurting the gourds, to be responsible, but....

Amalia kneels down so she's level with the gourd and gently blows. A rush of warm air pushes through the cavern behind her and into the pumpkin, sending it sprawling back towards the equid, dizzy and refreshed. "There. Play nice, though- it has feelings, too. Probably."

Amalia

fire in the ground between my teeth, we're dancing on the poison in their graves
at the end of the night, we'd all seen better days

Amalia stops the gourd with her foot and Sunjata’s grey blue gaze lands on it with an intensity of a predator despite his not so predatory shift. He keeps his head lowered, wings flaring, nostrils flaring as he bobs his head in agreement. Yes, yes he does want it back. He plants his hooves into the undergrowth, watching her with bated breath, watching as she kneels down to be level with the gourd. She blows at it and it’s sent rolling back to him.

A pulse of amusement and a hint of glee leaves him, hooves tiptapping on the lush earth beneath them, before the pumpkin meets him and he lowers his head again, muzzle bumping against the pumpkin, ears flicking back at the warning that she offers. Did they have feelings? Fangorn was different, wasn’t he? The last one to survive the first infestation?

Regardless, he bumps the pumpkin again and the creature rolls off to the side into the undergrowth, disappearing. Sunjata lifts his head back to Amalia, now, tucking his wings in tight against his back, tail swishing as he steps over toward her, muzzle extended to investigate her.

It’s easier this way, this little secret he can hold onto until he can’t anymore.

i know you tried, i know you're cursed, i know your best was still your worst

SUNJATA

we can't change what stays and what fades away

The pegasus' glee is practically palpable, eliciting a vibrant smile from Amalia in reply. More and more convinced this may in fact not be a normal horse (wings aside), she is likewise determined not to bring attention to whatever falsehood the Equid might be spreading. After all, she's cloaked herself in animal skin enough times to respect the need to hide sometimes. So she sends a pulse of empathy and acceptance through the bond, still smiling.

Would it be different, if she knew who he was?

The gourd vanishes into the undergrowth with a series of grumbles and rustling leaves, leaving the girl and the horse alone. Amalia has straightened, her eyes tracing the gourd's descent; now she turns back to the pegasus, surprise at his approach matched by a flush that warms her cheeks. "You know, I've never seen anything like you," she reports, her hands extending to offer soft scritches along his cheeks and between his ears. "Do you have a herd? Or are you alone, like me?"

Amalia

fire in the ground between my teeth, we're dancing on the poison in their graves
at the end of the night, we'd all seen better days

A pulse of empathy and acceptance drifts from the bond and Sunjata’s so taken by surprise by it – coming from Amalia, even if she didn’t know who he was – that he snorts quite equinelike, dancing on his hooves a brief moment more before his head is lifting and his pale ears are perking forward, wings tucking in tight again. He approaches her, curiosity in wondering just how far he can go before she figures it out or he gives it up.

Is it unfair to do such a thing?

The pegasus’ head cocks, nose bumping toward Amalia’s hand as he sniffs at it, smelling the faint traces of bread from years of crafting such a thing, as well as the hint of dirt and ruggedness from her trek to the wilds. And Sunjata sighs, an equine sound, before he withdraws – tri toned tail swishing above the ground. He has to tell her now, now that she’s said such a thing doesn’t he?

Amalia, it’s… Me. He pauses, ears wavering in uncertainty, head lowering a fraction as his gaze remains on Amalia. Sunjata.

i know you tried, i know you're cursed, i know your best was still your worst

SUNJATA

we can't change what stays and what fades away

And just as quickly as connection is built it dissipates like morning dew beneath the glare of truth. She knows it is ending as soon as he steps back, his body language speaking more clearly than any words could convey; whatever tentative anonymity they've been basking in is about to be wiped clear, leaving them both with their pasts. Amalia's hand wavers before dropping to her side, opening and closing as she waits for the other shoe to drop. Part of her knew it already, as soon as she touched his mind, and yet...

...and yet...

...and yet it's just as jarring to hear, and Amalia finds herself recoiling, aghast, her expression hardening in embarrassed anger. "Of course," she snaps bitterly, mouth pursed in irritation, looking away from the beautiful horse-turned-Flood and into the waiting escape of the tunnels. Then she sighs, running a hand through her hair and closing her eyes for a breath. "Ugh... sorry. I didn't expect... It's been a while. New form?"

Oh, gods, and she called him handsome--! Over the stonily furious expression, Amalia blushes red.

Amalia

fire in the ground between my teeth, we're dancing on the poison in their graves
at the end of the night, we'd all seen better days

Her bitter snap has his pale ears wavering in his uncertainty, despite the lingering twinge of understanding. His nostrils flare as the equine huffs a sigh, head lifting as he watches her with the same steel gaze. Don’t be sorry. After everything they’d been through, he understands how terrible it might be to find out that the creature you thought you could relate to was simply an old acquaintance in hiding. I get it. And he does, he does.

It’s new, yeah. Got it a little bit after the dragon. He offers her, taking a step closer, a tri-toned wing extended to poke at Amalia playfully as she grows beet red. I didn’t expect to see you, though. Heard you were in Stormbreak. An easy shift of conversation, a soft, open connection through the Attuned bond that seems to suggest he’s already forgotten the handsome comment (he hasn’t, he’s just tucked it away under the locked box called his ego). How’s it been? For her, specifically.

i know you tried, i know you're cursed, i know your best was still your worst

SUNJATA

we can't change what stays and what fades away

Silent and blushing, Amalia offers a curt nod of appreciation at his understanding and lets him carry on. Now that the initial embarrassment is ebbing her mental beach is littered with unfortunate bric-a-brac. Here is the man (horse?) without whom Adam might yet live. Another man who somehow has managed to get away with loving a monster and being loved by a god. At her sides, Amalia's hands clench.

And unclench. Because for now, at least, maybe he can be something other than a man.

"I heard you were in Torchline,", Amalia counters with a shrug, slapping back playfully at the extended wing. "It's... Been." No details, because isn't that why they're both here? To avoid all the details that threaten to drown them with each breath? "Why did you leave?"

Amalia

fire in the ground between my teeth, we're dancing on the poison in their graves
at the end of the night, we'd all seen better days

I was. Sunjata murmurs mentally, some sort of feeling of tension accompanying the words. At this point though, he doesn’t care much for hiding his face, not when it’s only Amalia and he doesn’t have a region to run and look out for and protect himself for as well as from. But there’s a short equine nod that tosses his long, tri toned mane at the mention of it having… Been. Fair enough.

If anything, Sunjata can understand that quite intimately.

Why did he leave Torchline, though? There’s a moment where the pegasus’ nostrils flare as he takes in quite the deep breath, filling his barrel before his ears flicker and waver in uncertainty, a hoof pawing at the grassy, moss laden ground beneath them. I got too paranoid. Started becoming and acting like my father. Didn’t want to do that anymore, so. He exhales in an equine sigh before he’s ruffling his wings. Safrin and I have a daughter now… And war’s coming. I just want however much longer I have with Nate and Kamaria before I don’t anymore to be full of living and not how shitty everything's becoming. Something about it comes out hollow, as if it’s a truth he keeps telling himself over and over again so that it might lose it’s meaning, might lose its gravity.

And every time he says it, the more weight it pulls.

i know you tried, i know you're cursed, i know your best was still your worst

SUNJATA

we can't change what stays and what fades away

Amalia listens with furrowed brows, her arms held loosely across her chest. For all the complicated history she and Sunjata share, the girl finds she feels a sense of camaraderie with the equine man. They have both been in difficult positions, both caved beneath the weight they were asked to hold. Indeed, the girl softens a little, fingers twitching, the desire to reach out and lay an empathetic hand on his cheek pulling at her bones-

-until he mentions Safrin's daughter and Nate in the same breath.

What? It's as much a feeling as a word, said mentally, flaring in disbelief. "You have a daughter - Safrin's daughter - and you're raising her with him?" Anger and shock war in her mind: that he would be so stupid, that Safrin would allow this, that an innocent would be left to the mercy of a family destined to fall apart. "How- you- Vi's beard, Sunjata, what is wrong with you?"

Amalia

fire in the ground between my teeth, we're dancing on the poison in their graves
at the end of the night, we'd all seen better days

’What?’ She asks and already Sunjata can feel his ears pinning, his nostrils flaring, a heavy equine sigh leaving him as he shakes his head and takes a step back from the Archangel. His gaze narrows, sharpening on Amalia with the defense of the dragon piercing through the edges of the equine, when suddenly the Pegasus’ chest is covered with a mottling of scales. She is my daughter too. Not just Safrin’s daughter. But that’s not the biggest problem with this, not as he stares at Amalia in that strange mixture of shifts.

Many things, but not that. He snaps defensively, head curling in against his chest. To be honest, Amalia, I’m not in the mood of arguing morals with you. But I thought you should know at least, about my daughter. My daughter. So I’ll see you around. With that, the dragon shift disappears within his feathers and furs and he becomes entirely and wholly the Pegasus again, whos wings flare as he launches skyward and disappears above the treetops again.

— FIN <333

i know you tried, i know you're cursed, i know your best was still your worst

SUNJATA