keep it quiet, keep it quiet; rembrandt

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

When I can't sleep at night, I think of how the world might have been if they hadn't died. Would I have still left the Freelands? Would I have stayed to pursue the quiet and comfortable life that had been willed to me? Night after night I searched the leaves rustling above me, or the wide and dark starfield yawning overhead, and night after night the answer fluttered just out of reach on thin, golden wings; my questions would litter the ground in the morning, and it seemed that I wasn't destined to know something that'd never come to pass. What use was there in resurrecting the dead? They did die, after all, I did leave, my life was not nearly as simple as it was when I lived in their warm shadows. That was the only answer, a harsh, objective answer. Either that, or my questions were simply nets with holes cut too wide for the subtle birds I was so desperate to catch, cage, stone.

But that was thinking meant for cover of darkness – it was afternoon now, the summer's glow weaving through the tall marsh grass and throwing sparks on the water's still surface, a breeze looping in from the hot South and fanning my neck. Damselflies flit around my head and disappeared into the sun's glare, and I paused to watch them, to listen with flickering ears to the rising chorus of bullfrogs stirring beneath the cool mud. “How beautiful,” I breathed, entranced by the gold and green tones, the humming of wings, the clean, unbelievably earthy smell of the wind – Hortelana was never like this, I thought, as wonderful as it was wandering the orchards, and Aquicul was so dark, so foreboding. It was such a strange and awe-inspiring picture, some alien world with alien music, and I approached it with all the curiosity of a newborn, eyes wide, mouth open just so.

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[Hud]

Rembrandt had been following his visitor for some time, though he'd never admit to it. Large as he was, he was all stealth in the swamp. He was the epitome of grace beneath that curious accent. Rembrandt's carrot-hued mane lie thick all on one side - he looked as good as he could, though he'd made no effort to look so. Appearances were nothing to him - skill and wit on the other hand...

Silent as a marsh rabbit, the bulky stallion watched with at least some interest as the mare observed her surroundings. He was a good fifty feet away - a safe distance should she happen to see him. If she did, it was ample distance to feign obliviousness to her existence and still see with pretty good detail what she was doing in his swamp. He was the king of the swamp, though he did serve a greater entity - the Northern King. Remmy knew his place in the grand scheme of things.

Glancing up for what was always above, Rembrandt slowly reached up to the nearest hanging clump of Gavril moss and pulled down with quiet-but-present intensity until it stood not a chance of remaining where it had been. As he chewed, Rembrandt figured that he should probably speak up and end his little game. It wasn't kind to her and he hated to be anything but kind. Swallowing, he dropped his jaw in readiness for speech.

" 'Ey! Who's you, sha? You been here long? Can't say as Ah've seen you befo'!"



OOC: Gavril moss = Spanish moss
Sha = Dear (from French "chèr")
Let me know if you'd like me to provide a translation. I know some of it can get a little hard to read. xD

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

The fact that I walked on monarchist soil didn't occur to me for some time – of course I had remembered on the way here, but after I'd crossed the border and into the wide everglade, it fluttered away on the breeze much like flower petals, or moth's wings. I had always had this habit, you see, of forgetting myself; I got caught up in something and ceased the constant vigilance that you needed to survive in the world, that kept you from being snapped up in the teeth of wolves, or mountain lions, or of rogues who wanted nothing more than a pretty face for their collection. Consequently, I didn't realize he was there until he saw fit to let me know, his deep and heavily-accented voice calling over the water – “OH MY – WAIT, WHAT?” – he hadn't even drawn ripples, made hardly a sound as he chewed contentedly on a drag of moss. Meanwhile, I had likely frightened away anything living within hearing-range. “I mean, I'm – oh, I'm SO SORRY, I just, I didn't … ” I contented myself with babbling nonsensically for a few moments before finally simmering down into what felt like a very long, very guilty silence. Trust me to forget that this was someone elses home! Trust me to forget how to speak! “Ah,” I said finally, worrying at my bottom lip. “I'm, ah, only passing through, and I'm, ah,” Matching his blue gaze shyly, I gave an apologetic smile. “Daisy. I'm Daisy.”


rem's accent makes me smile ♥
i keep picturing him sailing around in a boat. XD -shot-

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[Hud]

He laughed quietly with a smirk as she heard his greeting and apologized profusely for her response.

"No need for dose apologies, Miss. Ah'm used to it."

Rembrandt's smile grew as he spoke and took the liberty of approaching her now that she knew he was there. It didn't take him long to flatten what brush had separated them and take his place just feet in front of her.

As she introduced herself and made her intentions clear, he took on a surprised but pleasant countenance, his light face enhancing his expressions. "'Jus' passin' tru', y'say?! Ah don't believe you been he-yah mo' den a few days from da looks'a yo' purdy pelt, Miss Daiseh! Shuh-ly you ain't seen awl'a whut Gah-vril's got t'offer t'you jus' yet!" His voice, though deep and dark and heavy with inflections, was all kindness and sportiveness. Rembrandt's eyes surely shimmered as he spoke of his home. He couldn't imagine anyone taking the time to come and visit without also taking the time to enjoy all of the gifts the swamp had to offer.

OOC: If there's a word you're not sure about, try sounding my pronunciations out.

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

“You're just – I didn't hear you at all, it was … wow.” If I could blush, if I could blush, if I could blush. Shifting almost anxiously, I watched with a nervousness as he took one step after another closer, as silent as if he were the water itself, merely rolling along. And he was tall! Honestly, I couldn't think of any reason not to be intimidated. But as he began to wax poetic about this place – Gavril, I think he called it – a shine to his blue eyes, I realized that he was much too honest of a person to mean to intimidate anyone; I think he would have actually been offended to know that I had for even a moment been afraid. “Just between you and me, sir, I haven't even been here one day,” said I with a smile, more comfortable now than before. “It really is beautiful here, though! I can't imagine anyplace – I mean, what – there just aren't any words, are there?” I laughed at myself openly, tossing my head as I met his gaze. “Oh, I never got your name, did I?”


" ... miss daiseh!" -swoon-

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[Hud]

Hah! Rembrandt's supposition of her being new to the bayou was correct. He smiled kindly at her innocent admittance, perfectly able to restrain his celebratory thoughts.

"It sho' is. Lived he-uh awl my life and still see new tings erryday!" As he spoke happily, his tangerine-colored tail swished back and forth behind him, swatting mosquitoes just as quickly as they could alight on his rump. He didn't even mind the insects that swarmed in his home, though he did prefer they stayed clear of his backside. His eyes glanced past the mare to the waters behind her, scanning for danger. Rembrandt was always on the lookout. Wouldn't want a nice meeting like the one they were having to be interrupted - that was for sure. Pulled back in by her question, Remmy concluded that no imminent danger was upon them.

"Mah name? Mah name Rembrandt, dough errybody call me Remmy." As he spoke, he bobbed his head around a little, his casual, pleasant nature shining.

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

Having grown up in Hortelana, I couldn't relate to him in very many ways. It was soft and pleasant, green grass in the spring, apples in the fall; there was a routine and it came easily and naturally to the point of becoming monotonous. Change was orderly, as far from spontaneous as possible. I supposed it could have been described as a sort of a safe bubble where everything went well. “I've only been here an hour, maybe, and I've seen so much that I can't decide if it's real or not.” A shy admittance. I didn't want to come off as more naïve than I already had, but I preferred to be honest. “Something there?” Noticing his averted gaze, I flicked my head back rather quickly and, seeing nothing, contented myself with looking at him questioningly for a moment before moving on. He would tell me if he thought it necessary, I had learned that much about this Remmy. “Remmy, then.” I nodded politely, beaming. “A pleasure.”


sorry for massive delay. x ___ x

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[Hud]

Rembrandt could imagine that one's first day in the wonderment that was Gavril Marsh was quite a lot to take in in such a short amount of time. The bog's overseer couldn't remember his first days, as much as he would've liked to. His childhood couldn't have been bothered by things as trivial as beauty - that was something to be considered when a swamp horse got older and more comfortable in his or her surroundings. One's foal days were to be spent learning 24/7. Survival skills in such an environment as he called home were crucial and without them, he was sure to have lost his life long ago. There were others who had grown up in the swamp, though nobody could argue that Rembrandt was the king in there parts.

The pale stallion smirked at Daisy's answer. She was young and bright-eyed... The swamp was new to her. As she glanced behind her toward where he had looked, Rembrandt kept his eyes on her as he shook his head. "No sha, not now." A smile lie on his lips as he focused on his visitor.

"And t'you Miss Daiseh," he said with a small bow of his head. "You plannin' on dayin' long?" It was in no way an effort to get her to leave; in fact it was one to get her to stay. To tell the truth, he was somewhat on the hunt to enlarge his herd numbers. They had been dwindling a bit as of late... Time for new members!

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

In the back of my mind, there was the nagging idea that I really ought to be getting home by now. The sun was dipping lower and lower into evening, and it was sure to be a long journey back; I couldn't trust myself to stay to the path, or not get lost. My parents would – what? Roll in their quiet, sunken graves? I bit my lip and focused on some place beyond his left shoulder, staring seemingly back into a time where it would have mattered where it was that I went, how long I decided to stay there. Orphanhood didn't suit me yet, it seemed. “Well,” Blinking twice, I returned my attention to Rembrandt and ran over his question once more before answering, smiling absent-mindedly as I pondered exactly what it was that I was doing. Should I stay a little longer, go a little further? Where was it that I was headed, anyway? After a time I shook my head and laughed again, much more softly this time, glancing down to the wet earth between my hooves. Somewhere the bullfrogs had set up to croaking again, and I distracted myself with their chorus as I thought. “I'm not sure, Rem,” I said hesitantly, lifting my head to peer into the gold-lit sky. “I was just trying to get away from home for a while and now I've no idea what to do next.” A much lonelier smile now, meeting his gaze soberly. “Any advice for a lost soul?”

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[Hud]

Maybe Remmy had overstepped his boundaries.

The poor girl was asking him for advice. Anyone that knew Rembrandt knew he wasn't the best when it came to telling others what they should do to fix their problems, but Daisy had no reason to suspect such an inconsistency in him. Remmy wanted to help her, but how was he to reply to such a request?

The great orange stallion furrowed his brows a bit as he looked to Daisy. She was so... So... Well, her word had been "lost", though Rembrandt didn't want to think of her that way. As a foal, he'd gotten lost quite a bit in the marshlands and was depended on to return home or fall trying. The code of the swamp was to help others through experience and although Rembrandt had never been lost emotionally as this mare seemed to be, he felt as though his getting lost physically might play some part in helping her find herself again.

"Don't git lost, I s'pose. Ya gotta be alone t'git lost, so mebbe da furst step would be t'not be by yuhseff s'much."

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

I had to laugh, a soft, sincere, bird-like laugh. There was something so comforting about his simple take on the issue, devoid of frills or complicated philosophy – here was a problem, and here was an answer that made so much sense that it was absolutely painful. And maybe that was why I laughed – for the pain. “I don't know why, but I had a feeling you'd know just what to do.” The words were soft and not in the least bit mocking, a quiet confession to something I hadn't realized until hardly a minute ago. Maybe I had been right to stop here after all, in this place that seemed more like a dream than reality; maybe I was meant to stay. Fate had never made much sense to me, I'll admit, but in this fragile moment, I believed. “Would you … ” I believed. “Would you mind if I stayed? Just a little while, I promise.”

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[Hud]

Hearing her quiet spout of laughter, Rembrandt smiled widely and genuinely down to her. The mare seemed to enjoy his company - something he was proud of. There was almost nothing Rembrandt loved better than making lasting friendships, and he could tell that this was going to be the beginning of one.

Her response to his was a kind and complimenting one. It was obvious to him that she respected him and the feeling was most definitely mutual. He was always partial to other kind horses he met and gave them the benefit of any doubt, not that Miss Daisy needed it. And then, a question he could whole-heartedly say that he knew the definite answer to.

"Cahn you shtay? Well Ah don't see wah not! You bein' such a nice lay-deh 'n awl, Ah'd be most honored for you to shtay!"

OOC: He can say "most honored" fine, but he can't say "why" xDD

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

I was expecting rejection, though for what reason I couldn't say, didn't know. Was it just the way things had been going lately? Was it the impossible, inconceivable, dream-like quality that Gavril held? It must have been. The prospect was terrifying, but I wouldn't have been surprised if all of this – the bullfrogs, the sunset, Rembrandt – disappeared with a blink, and I had been talking to nothing but the stars and the trees and the road this entire time. 'Cahn you shtay?' But when I blinked he was still there, and so was the balmy smell of the marsh grass, the light dying over my shoulder. “ – Ah'd be most honored for you to shtay!” For a moment I was silent with disbelief, and then I could do nothing but smile, and smile, and smile, so bright and so wide that I could barely manage a, “Thank you, so much.”

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[Hud]

"Gotta warn ya 'bout dose gatuhs dough. If you-ah plannin' on shtaying, dere's a few tings you oughtta know t'keep yuh safe." Rembrandt was not about to let a sweet mare like Daisy go unprepared. If she was to adopt Gavril as her home for at least a little while, she had to know how to protect herself. He was not unwilling to share his survival skills; the opposite was true, in fact! He took pride in his ability to live in one of the more difficult terrains, as was made evident almost immediately to pretty much everyone he met.

Rembrandt could tell that Daisy would take him seriously and he appreciated it. "Furst ting is t'nevuh swim unless Ah'm wit yuh." It seemed that outsiders who visited the swamp wanted to take a dip in the bayou pretty frequently. That was how Remy came across... He tried not to think of what he had found on numerous occasions. "Second is t'be extruh careful when yuh goes t'take a drink. Dey lurkin' errywhere, y'know." He didn't want to scare her, but she needed to know before taking on such a big commitment.

"Once you been 'ere a bit, yuh'll be able t'take a few liberties 'ere and dere," he said with a smile. He paused for a moment. "Ah'm so 'appy you decided to shtay, Miss Daiseh!"

[lamb ♥]

d a i s y,

He took on a serious face all of a sudden, and my ears twitched back instinctively, smile flinching back a half an inch in preparation: 'Gotta warn ya 'bout dose gatuhs dough.' Gators? “Ah … ” I frowned minutely, trading my uncontainable joy for a measure of concern. From the way that he approached the topic – grave, a strange expression that didn't seem to belong to a face like Rembrandt's – I could only assume that they were some sort of local, dangerous animal, much like a cougar or a wolf in Hortelana. I remembered suddenly the way that he had been eyeing some space behind me earlier on, and I swallowed, a little doubt rising in my throat. No swimming. Be careful drinking. “Sounds, ahm, wonderful.” Nervous laughter. I concluded quietly that it might be a good idea to tag along with him until I had my bearings. He'd lived here all of his life, afterall; there couldn't be any place safer than someplace where I could see him and he could see me. “How about you give me a tour then, Rem?” Wading through the still-shallow waters of the marsh, I paused beside him with what I hoped looked like bravery. “Gator-free, if you please.”

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