[PRP] A Rainbow of Differences (Bastian and Quetzal)

[Cajmera]

 

[Cajmera]

"Bwa!"

With a deep exhale, Bastian burst up through the surface of the water, shaking back his head and flinging droplets of water every which way. Grinning, he shook his head first one way, then the other way, clearing water out of his ears and off of his horns. Not having a mane might be an oddity in the Soquili world, but he would be the first to say that it was a boon in the watery world; if he had to deal with drying his mane out every time he went swimming, he'd be spending most of his life with a wet head!

"Hey, I think I'm going to call it good for a while, Myrt; I'm going to head up and see if I can find something decent for supper. But you feel free to keep swimming; I'll be back after I've gotten some grub, and maybe taken a nap." This was directed to the large purple sea turtle swimming several paces away, who merely acknowledged the information with a slight nod of her head. Bastian's grin widened; they'd had an argument (Myrtle called it a 'discussion') earlier in the day, and she still wasn't talking to him. Strange, to be given the silent treatment by his usually chatty familiar, but it wasn't the first time she'd used this tactic!

And, knowing him, it wasn't going to be the last time, either. "Well, just don't say I didn't keep you in the loop, Myrtle. Perhaps I'll throw in a lovely conversation with myself while I'm at it, since I seem to be the best company around at the moment." He didn't expect any response to that, and he didn't get one; Myrtle merely dove deeper into the water of the lake. Chuckling, Bastian swam up to shore and waded out of the water, shaking off his back, legs, and tail in one fell swoop. Yes, it was nice not to have a mane to worry about!

This was a nice enough place, he thought as he looked down the shoreline. They had arrived in the region pretty late last night, too late to really do more than ascertain that there was water nearby and pass out. This morning upon waking, Bastian had been delighted to see that not only was there water, but there was a massive lake of it! Myrtle had spent the night there, but as soon as he realized what it was Bastian had dived right in himself, spending the next several hours swimming about.

But now that he'd gotten all the fun out of his system, he needed to take some time to nourish it. Some Kelpi might enjoy seaweed and the like, but he was only half kelpi, and his taste buds were 0% kelpi. So...land-based nourishment it was! And he wasn't picky; while fruit was obviously superior, he could make do with grass just fine.

Uta

 

[Uta]

There was something to be said about flying: it brought freedom and could be a wonderful escape from the grounded world below. There was something else to be said about Quetzal flying: it was just a bad idea. Period. The mare had a large and terribly unruly double set of feathered wings. They weren’t the elegant set witnessed on angeni and their kin, nor were they the delicate design of a natural Wind; neither still were they like that of the hippo’gryphs and their large pinions that wrought them high in the sky. No, Quetzal’s were an odd, feathered sort – a bit too heavy for the delicate boned mare, and no one had ever truly taught her the art of flight. For all her years of roaming, Quetzal was a wreck on wing, and only took to flight when absolutely necessary. Today, it had been absolutely necessary. She was in need of water, and the fastest way to find a nearby river or lake or pond was to go up. So up she had gone, and was making her way quickly towards the same lake Bastian and Myrtle had discovered.

While the water was all well and good, Quetzal had to make for a landing, something that was always tricky. So it was, the striped mare dropped lower, attempted to circle once, back-wing, and drop. Unfortunately, how it played out in her head didn’t quite work out. She came in too fast, wasn’t as low was she thought, and while her clawed feet reached for ground, she misjudged the distance, got one claw tangled in her mess of mane, and wound up dropping hard and tumbling hard into the shore grasses. Thankfully for Quetzal, after years of failed flight, delicate boned she might be, she was hardy enough – or just plain lucky – she hadn’t hurt herself. Maybe it was the mutant blood that ran through her veins; she wasn’t quite an angeni, nor a hippo’gryph, and where she lacked feathers in her mane and tail, she had too much; and instead of the typical pointed soquili ears, she had small, fur covered nubs. Honestly, even when she wasn’t disheveled from flight and a hard landing, she knew she looked affright. It was why she wore the mask, was why she donned a little delicate lace. As far as Quetzal believed, they were the prettiest thing about her.

Thirsty as she was, the mare took a moment to look herself over, giving a small shake and making sure her tumble hadn’t twisted or broken anything. It was then, she realized, that she was not alone. She froze for a moment, glanced up to stare at the rainbow kelpi – and odd sight, really, and not one she’d noticed in her haste for a drink – before smiling broadly. “That must have looked like a crash. Let me scare you and confess it was one of my better landings!” She gave a self-deprecating laugh, having long ago learned that laughter just made things easier. “A bit of a catastrophe, but . . . at least I’m still in one piece?”  

[Cajmera]

Truth be told, at first Bastian hadn't even noticed the mare. He was aware of the numerous types of winged Soquili that occupied the lands, but he'd never had so much as a passing fascination with their kind. They could fly, and he knew that there were many grounded SOquili who rather wistfully wished they were included in that number, but Bastian himself had never been one of them. Why desire the air when the water was his kingdom? Because as far as he'd ever seen, it really had to be one or the other; a winged Soquili swimming was a sad sight to behold! Perhaps if there was a way he could retain his watery elegance and skill, he might be interested in having wings of his own. Might. But very unlikely.

So Soquili in flight were something that he registered, but barely. They lived in their own world, flying along far overhead; he lived in his world, swimming and strolling about on the ground. But it was a different matter when the winged ones came down to earth; on the same field as he, they could be downright pleasant types, and even interesting. But that was only when they'd deigned to come down, or whatever it was that they considered landing. It was silly, he knew, but he'd always had a mental image of the winged sort as being a trifle prideful.

But this mare...well, she was something else. At first she'd been nothing, not even a blip on his personal radar, but as she descended Bastian couldn't help but notice the loud 'whooshing' of wind which first alerted him to her presence. Looking up at first out of curiosity, he'd no sooner located the mare than his gaze was riveted. He'd seen a few winged types in his travels; mostly winds, but also a flutter. And he'd heard of a couple other types, types that had massive, elegant wings and could (allegedly) soar almost to heaven itself. He had no idea what sort of Soquili this mare was supposed to be, but if she was a heavenly soarer, he felt bad for the angels! Never would he have imagine a winged Soquili could be so...so...

Awkward.

Yes, that was the word, awkward. Even in flight, she had a gangliness about her that reminded him of a young foal taking its first stumbling steps. For a brief moment, he wondered if that awkwardness was an act, meant to lull observers into a false sense of superiority, but as she practically plowed into the ground he dismissed that idea as ridiculous. That had to have hurt!

And he was about to ask about that when the mare beat him to it, looking up at him and...smiling? Laughing? Man, and he thought HE was a strange one! Still, it was nice to know she wasn't hurt, and Bastian had never been one to be weirded out by anything. Laughing himself, he gave the mare a slight shake of his head. "Well, if that's one of your better landings, remind me to be far, far away when you're engaging in one of your worse ones. Otherwise I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up becoming your landing pad, and that seems like it would be painful for both of us!" A slight gesture with his tail to his horns and the spikes on the front of his body indicated what he meant, but he still explained in a helpful way, "I wouldn't want you to run into any of these things unawares. Or even awares; they're a bit on the pointy side!""

Grinning, he added teasingly, "and it's nice to meet you, Still-In-One-Piece; I'm Bastian. Much less interesting name, but it's all I've got."

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

Quetzal gave a little embarrassed shake of her head as the stranger talked about becoming her next landing pad. Honestly, she couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen, even on one of her better landings! “I never was taught how to fly,” she finally confessed with a little shrug of her shoulders. It wasn’t that she was a bad flyer out of lack of skill. She was simply a bad flyer out of lack of practice. Her ridiculously long mane and tail, her lacy jewelry, and her clawed feet did not help. Granted, while she was incredibly delicate and thin of bone, her wings were a bit on the peculiar side – a little (a lot) more disheveled and heavier than the elegant angeni wings she had witnessed on others. Their vibrant feathers were not easily tamed, no matter how frequently she tried to groom, and their general mass was just . . too big. Foals often grew into their oversized wings, and everyone had hoped Quetzal might do the same. Unfortunately, as she grew, her wings did so disproportionately and it often left her somewhat bogged down and clumsy. Heaven forbid she try to swim or get waterlogged! She'd sink straight down, she was sure! Still, everything about Quetzal was a little bit disheveled, and she doubted that would ever change. She was awkward in conversation just as awkward as she as in flight, and she never knew quite where she belonged in this world. Certainly now, for the safety of others, up in the air!

Thankfully, the stallion didn’t seem of bad spirit. He was an interesting sort himself, what with his pale rainbows, his fins, and those golden spikes! They certainly were of the pointy variety, and she doubted anyone wanted to crash into them. Her little rounded black ears pricked forward, and her glowing blue eyes brightened with good humor. “Well, let me assure you, I don’t often make it a habit to fly. It can be a bit frightening, and I’d just as rather stay on the ground.” Still, there was a part of flight that came naturally to the mare, even if she knew she wasn’t the most elegant or graceful. It was better to keep her limited aerial skills honed as best she could, just in case she ever needed to depend upon her wings. Quetzal was living proof there were strange things out and about the Kawani, so she much preferred to be safe than sorry. . .even if her landings were a bit hard.

“It’s good to meet you, Bastian-of-the-Moderately-Interesting-Name,” she all but happily whistled, seemingly unphased by her earlier crash. “I do hope I haven’t interrupted you? The water looked inviting,” to drink, of course, and to swim in. There was something peculiarly avian about her, and like any bird, she could appreciate a good dip in the water. She probably would look even less graceful, but her feathers appreciated a good bath, even if it took hours to dry out her hair. “I’m Quetzal.” And that was a chirp.  

[Cajmera]

"Oh, you were never taught to fly? What a coincidence, neither was I! But man, you're doing a lot better than me in overcoming that handicap," Bastian said with a smile. It was true that he himself didn't have WINGS and therefore didn't need flying lessons, but the point still stood. He'd never been one to shy away from any sort of conversation; in fact, he'd never been shy at all! And it had been Bastian's experience that nothing helped set people at ease like humor. The mare seemed to be off to a good start; she didn't seem to be too embarrassed by her admittedly awkward landing, and that was good. But there was no reason he couldn't help ease things up even more!

"That said, I can understand why you wouldn't want to fly around too much. I've never done a study on the subject," Bastian said with a sage nod of his head, "But I've spent a ton of time in the water and know what it's like to have your body supported by something other than your legs. It's a nice sensation, but it has to end sometime, and that can be the problem!" Lord knew there were times when it was hard for Bastian to drag himself out of the water! "But when you're talking swimming, ending the experience doing usually have the potential to turn into a pancake. Unless you're swimming at the top of a waterfall, which would just be ridiculous. And unsafe." He'd never tried that particular activity before, and wasn't planning to start!

"So yeah, I can understand where you're coming from in the nerves thing. Though I gotta say, it's pretty cool that you WERE flying, with all the potential for pain and smashing into the ground and whatnot," Bastian said. "But obviously this time you didn't smash into anything important, and I'd say that deserves a reward. May I suggest some grass, and maybe a drink," he said with a flourishing gesture to the ground. "The grass is pretty tasty; much better texture than seaweed, but still plenty moist. And the water is great, both for a drink and a swim, if you're the swimming type. I'm not sure how those wings would help you in the water," he said as he cast a critical eye over the large rainbowy protrusions, "But you never know! Maybe you could use them as 'floats' to help support you." Fact: there was no person who couldn't benefit from a good swim. "Though whether you only want a drink or a swim, don't mind the turtle. She'd friendly, even if she's prone to stubbornness."

Grinning, he took a big mouthful of grass and chewed it down. "Nife to mee oo, Quezzle," Bastian said before swallowing. "Welcome to my little temporary paradise!"

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

"Well then, we can both be mostly flightless together," she chirped happily. "It's harder than you think . . . though I suspect if you ever met someone who could teach you the art of flight, it would be nothing short of amazing." The striped mare was pleased that the stranger seemed to be of good and hearty spirit. His humor was short of delightful, and the mare couldn't help but be pleased. What a funny little kelpie . . . or whatever it is he might be made of. It was difficult to say, really -- the small spikes on his face and legs were unusual; along with the horns, they were almost draconic. Not that she would judge -- it was a curious sight, and refreshing to boot. She'd never seen another soquili quite like Bastian before ... but then, she'd never seen another soquili quite like her, either.

"Well, until I learn from some sort of aerial pro, I only fly to keep my minimal skills practiced. I might not fly for all hours of a day, like some winds do, but I do like to have the option for an aerial getaway. You just never know when the ground or landbound might betray you," She grinned. Shrugging her shoulders, the mare gave a little stretch of her wings before settling them nicely against her back. "Oh, I think a little of all three sounds nice," she chirped appreciatively. "I might not swim too far out, but water is essential in keeping the feathers clean. And it is rather fun, if I do think so myself. I just wouldn't want to get too far out -- I'm afraid I"m not the best swimmer, either." In fact, the more she spoke with this fellow, the more she felt as if she wasn't very good at much of anything. She couldn't fly, couldn't really swim, and was clumsy even when she walked! Ah well. "All of this hair of mine turns into a bit of an anchor. Still . . . the shallows should be refreshing enough -- but that'll be only after a meal!"

And with that, she followed the stallion and began to nibble upon the sweet grasses of the little abode. "So, tell me, stranger -- are you a rogue traveler? Or do you stick close to these waters?" While this might be his temporary paradise, she couldn't possibly know if the lands were familiar to him, or close to where his home or herd might be. Quetzal knew not everyone was a rogue like she!

This was nice though. The unusual stallion seemed about as bright of personality as he was of color! She had never met a water soq before, though it sounded like this fellow knew his share lakes, ponds, and streams. She wanted to ask questions, but also didn't want to come off as nosy or prying. Maybe she could ask later, once they were a bit more formally acquainted.
 

[Cajmera]

Whatever else she was (or wasn't), Quetzal certainly had no sense of false modesty! Bastian didn't know her well enough to say whether she was being too hard on herself, or being totally honest; he wasn't so optimistic about the world that he didn't think there weren't deadweights out there. That said, if Quetzal was as uniquely ungifted as she seemed to think, then that wasn't her fault; it also didn't mean she was a failure. So what if she couldn't fly? Flying was overrated anyway, and the flying sorts missed out on an awful lot of fun stuff by spending all their time in the clouds. If Bastian were being honest, then he'd say it was a good thing Quetzal was challenged when it came to flight; she might be slower in getting around, but she'd get to experience a lot more of the world in the process!

He was glad she'd given flying a try this morning, though; otherwise, she might not have ended up in these parts, and then he never would have gotten to meet such a simultaneously strange and refreshing creature. Bastian loved getting to meet other Soquili in the course of his travels, but meeting someone who was a fellow oddball was a rare treat!

As Queztal moved over to join him at the grass patch, he continued to eat as he listened to her questions. This time, though, he allowed himself to swallow before speaking. "Oh, I'm a cheerful rogue, Quetzal, but I also try to stick near water. I have to, or I'll dry out, and that would be a sight as ugly as you turning into a pancake," he said with a grin. "I'd certainly be about as dead, so...yeah. Luckily for me, I can bring water with me when I roam, so it's not as big a problem for me as it can be for others." Taking another bite of grass, he cocked his head at the mare. "Wha a'out oo?" Swallowing, he continued, "Seems like it might be safer to learn to fly in a familiar location." After all, what if she ended up flying on a cloudy day? She might run into a mountain, or hook a high tree, or fall into a crevice; he was no expert on the subject, but it certainly seemed like a way to get herself injured!

And injuries were no good; whatever else Quetzal was, she didn't seem to have any unicorn in the mix!

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

Quetzal happily listened to the rainbow coated stranger beside her. He was pleasant company, and appeared just as bright in personality as the rainbows that colored him. Of all the soquili she could have met, she was glad to have crashed on his beach. The blue eyed mare did arch a brow when he spoke about drying out. . . .and being able to bring the water with him. "Do you have a way of transporting water? Or . . or do you simply mean you follow the rivers and streams and tributaries, so bring it that way?" She couldn't quite understand how a stallion could bring water . . . he didn't seem to have any pouches or skins in which to carry such a thing. Perhaps she simply wasn't understanding. What did she know about the water-soq like him? "Regardless, I'm glad you're wise about your travels! I forget that some soq are far more dependent on the resource than needing it simply for drinking."

"As for me, I'm a fellow traveler like you. Unfortunately, I'm a bit . . . easily turned around. I haven't really ever had a place to call my own, so I simply pick my way wherever the winds take me. Sometimes quite literally," she laughed again and gave a little shrug of her wings. "I try to practice in familiar and open places, but . . . When you don't control where you go very well, and are a little afraid of landing, sometimes you wind up far from your starting point." She grinned at the stallion, not too bothered by the admission. It was the truth, after all. "Really, I should either give up fight all together, or find someone willing to teach. But . . .flight with four wings is a little different than two, and I've yet to meet a fellow quite as feathered." Perhaps one day, though, when the spirits would favor her in such a feat.