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Description

< RETREAT ~ ADVANCE >

UNDER a cloudless sky peppered with stars, the residents of Wescolmbe drifted to sleep. The fading summertime brought unimaginable amounts of work, with show season winding down and administrative paperwork multiplying. Both people and horses found peaceful refuge in the quiet nights, one of the few times where uninterrupted thought and relaxation could be enjoyed without the pressure of the day. Soft moonlight caressed the trees as the night grew, leaving the grounds of the centre filled with gentle dewdrops of light. Save for the songs of the night wildlife and the whispers of the trees, it was quiet. Perhaps too quiet for a place of such a busy nature.

From the west, the prevailing wind carried the gentle sounds of the sea on the coastline. The ebb and flow of the waves kept an unsteady metronome in the darkness, one that comforted the horses with its free irregularity. It was upon these winds and waves that a new voice came to Wescolmbe; the monotone voice of feet crunching upon gravel pathways. Unused to this new sound, the horse in the far paddock pricked his ears and looked on intently. His dark coat made him seem more of a shadow than a horse, whith only the gleams of moonlight on his body reminding the night he was in fact real. As head stallion, his duty was to know all the goings and comings of the stables, including what seemed to be unscheduled visits.

"We are lost, Ignatius. The world is against us now - there is nowhere else for us to go." Bourne on the breeze, an accented voice spoke in rhythm with the footsteps. Now with two dark figures forming in his view the stallion turned, manoevering to listen better, almost as if he understood the words being said.

"Anton, you know as well as I do these people are essentially criminal in nature. Who is to say they have not fallen under Fellbridge's political spell in exchange for amnesty?" The figures, sharply defined in the light appeared to slow their pace a bit as the shorter one questioned the other. Unknown by them, the black stallion continued to listen, taking in very detail.

"Did they not denounce Fellbridge and his Progressives in 1973? I remember-"

"Simply because he called for island unity. They have always advocated for autonomy after the Hydes-Nordanner scandal of '57." Having pulled up to a stop, the two seemed hesitant to continue. Turning his head, horse eyed the main house of the property, dark save for two lamps outside the front door, emitting a feeble orange glow that did little next to the light of the moon. It was hear the gravel path led, past his paddock, straight to the imposing front door with its horse head brass knocker. A journey the pair seemed reluctant to take.

"They may have cleaned up their act after the years. Perhaps they have left their shady dealings in the past."

"If they did indeed cut ties with the mainland after the November Spring, they have every opportunity to ignore the old laws. Who knows what van Pey and his crew have done since then?"

Anton replied with silence. Wescolmbe was their last resort; an unappealing backup plan. For forty years, he, Ignatius, and God knows how many others flitted through life in the outside world after fleeing Mortimer Fellbridge and his Progressive's radical iron fist. With the onset of the twenty-first century, it was time for them to settle. No longer could they keep up with the world's growing pace. People seemed so focused on the future, and they still lived in the past.

"We must try. After all we've done, they must surely let us stay"

"After all we've done they're liable to shoot us instead." A grim note crept into Ignatius's reply. He was certainly right; before his flight from Eswitch, the new Progressive government announced all individuals who had worked on the Intelligence Network project would be taken in for questioning. Apparently they deemed the whole operation 'unconstitutional'. Having lived behind the Iron Curtain, he knew how these things went. The only official questioning that would happen would be whispers around town asking where you were.

Silence once again found its way into the conversation. The moon hung higher in the sky now, it's light illuminating the grounds of the stables. Nearby, the stallion tossed his head and shifted position with a snort. To him, the visitors were wasting time. If they had no business here, then they'd better leave before he got to them. Or worse, before his master found them. Glancing in his direction with mild surprise, the pair resumed their conversation.

"We've worked with horses before. We could ask for employment instead of sanctuary."

A hollow laugh escaped Ignatius. "Anton, I've worked with horses. You have ridden that German nag of yours around a farm for several years."

"Then I can ride the nags they keep here. I want to settle somewhere, have a home again. We can find that here, if we only try." With these words, Anton turned to continue along the path towards the dismal light of the main house. His steps were slow but purposeful as the black stallion watched him stride away. The man's companion stood nervously watching him for several seconds. As if his mind had flipped a switch, he sprang into action, running to his partners side arm reaching for his arm.

"Do not hold me back, Ignatius. This is my decision - you are free to go." Reverting to his native Russian, a slight sense of anger laced Anton's words. Gone was his previous pleading tone. Shaking the man off, he began walking once more. He had made a decision, and by God, he would stick to it.

"No... I'm not stopping you, but -" Ignoring the change of language, Ignatius reached out, worry in his voice. Moonlight glanced off something silver-grey in his hand. A small pistol.

"If... If it comes to it, you're a better shot than me..."

A moment of hesitation plagued Anton. They could do little against van Pey and his three staff if it came to it. Though as history had proven to him, a little resistance might spark a change. A change for the better.

Wordlessly, he turned to receive the weapon from Ignatius. Gravely, he started up the path once more, this time with Ignatius by his side.

Watched only by the stallion and the stars above, they soon reached their destination.

At the front door of the centre of Percy van Pey's unlawful adventures, the two government employees stood.

And they knocked.

Word count: 1,104

IT BEGINS
Everyone seems to have a storyline, so I guess I need one too. It sort of follows off my character's official storyline which involves more of a country of time travellers and its political train wreck set in the 60s and 70s. haha I never actually wrote proper stuff about that because I'm the laziest bum on earth. This story will mostly stay in the 21st century though.

I don't write; I draw. This is just for fun c: As for languages, my characters are from around the world since I thought just British and Caribbean people would be rather boring. I'll just keep my writing in English so I don't disgrace any cultures with google translate.

I'll be back to edit this and fix mistakes eventually...

References: Forest Stock 30 FREE STOCK IMAGE - Midnight Forest STOCK - Friesian Show 2012-121
Horse: 9161 OMS Stranger GC

Description

< RETREAT ~ ADVANCE >

UNDER a cloudless sky peppered with stars, the residents of Wescolmbe drifted to sleep. The fading summertime brought unimaginable amounts of work, with show season winding down and administrative paperwork multiplying. Both people and horses found peaceful refuge in the quiet nights, one of the few times where uninterrupted thought and relaxation could be enjoyed without the pressure of the day. Soft moonlight caressed the trees as the night grew, leaving the grounds of the centre filled with gentle dewdrops of light. Save for the songs of the night wildlife and the whispers of the trees, it was quiet. Perhaps too quiet for a place of such a busy nature.

From the west, the prevailing wind carried the gentle sounds of the sea on the coastline. The ebb and flow of the waves kept an unsteady metronome in the darkness, one that comforted the horses with its free irregularity. It was upon these winds and waves that a new voice came to Wescolmbe; the monotone voice of feet crunching upon gravel pathways. Unused to this new sound, the horse in the far paddock pricked his ears and looked on intently. His dark coat made him seem more of a shadow than a horse, whith only the gleams of moonlight on his body reminding the night he was in fact real. As head stallion, his duty was to know all the goings and comings of the stables, including what seemed to be unscheduled visits.

"We are lost, Ignatius. The world is against us now - there is nowhere else for us to go." Bourne on the breeze, an accented voice spoke in rhythm with the footsteps. Now with two dark figures forming in his view the stallion turned, manoevering to listen better, almost as if he understood the words being said.

"Anton, you know as well as I do these people are essentially criminal in nature. Who is to say they have not fallen under Fellbridge's political spell in exchange for amnesty?" The figures, sharply defined in the light appeared to slow their pace a bit as the shorter one questioned the other. Unknown by them, the black stallion continued to listen, taking in very detail.

"Did they not denounce Fellbridge and his Progressives in 1973? I remember-"

"Simply because he called for island unity. They have always advocated for autonomy after the Hydes-Nordanner scandal of '57." Having pulled up to a stop, the two seemed hesitant to continue. Turning his head, horse eyed the main house of the property, dark save for two lamps outside the front door, emitting a feeble orange glow that did little next to the light of the moon. It was hear the gravel path led, past his paddock, straight to the imposing front door with its horse head brass knocker. A journey the pair seemed reluctant to take.

"They may have cleaned up their act after the years. Perhaps they have left their shady dealings in the past."

"If they did indeed cut ties with the mainland after the November Spring, they have every opportunity to ignore the old laws. Who knows what van Pey and his crew have done since then?"

Anton replied with silence. Wescolmbe was their last resort; an unappealing backup plan. For forty years, he, Ignatius, and God knows how many others flitted through life in the outside world after fleeing Mortimer Fellbridge and his Progressive's radical iron fist. With the onset of the twenty-first century, it was time for them to settle. No longer could they keep up with the world's growing pace. People seemed so focused on the future, and they still lived in the past.

"We must try. After all we've done, they must surely let us stay"

"After all we've done they're liable to shoot us instead." A grim note crept into Ignatius's reply. He was certainly right; before his flight from Eswitch, the new Progressive government announced all individuals who had worked on the Intelligence Network project would be taken in for questioning. Apparently they deemed the whole operation 'unconstitutional'. Having lived behind the Iron Curtain, he knew how these things went. The only official questioning that would happen would be whispers around town asking where you were.

Silence once again found its way into the conversation. The moon hung higher in the sky now, it's light illuminating the grounds of the stables. Nearby, the stallion tossed his head and shifted position with a snort. To him, the visitors were wasting time. If they had no business here, then they'd better leave before he got to them. Or worse, before his master found them. Glancing in his direction with mild surprise, the pair resumed their conversation.

"We've worked with horses before. We could ask for employment instead of sanctuary."

A hollow laugh escaped Ignatius. "Anton, I've worked with horses. You have ridden that German nag of yours around a farm for several years."

"Then I can ride the nags they keep here. I want to settle somewhere, have a home again. We can find that here, if we only try." With these words, Anton turned to continue along the path towards the dismal light of the main house. His steps were slow but purposeful as the black stallion watched him stride away. The man's companion stood nervously watching him for several seconds. As if his mind had flipped a switch, he sprang into action, running to his partners side arm reaching for his arm.

"Do not hold me back, Ignatius. This is my decision - you are free to go." Reverting to his native Russian, a slight sense of anger laced Anton's words. Gone was his previous pleading tone. Shaking the man off, he began walking once more. He had made a decision, and by God, he would stick to it.

"No... I'm not stopping you, but -" Ignoring the change of language, Ignatius reached out, worry in his voice. Moonlight glanced off something silver-grey in his hand. A small pistol.

"If... If it comes to it, you're a better shot than me..."

A moment of hesitation plagued Anton. They could do little against van Pey and his three staff if it came to it. Though as history had proven to him, a little resistance might spark a change. A change for the better.

Wordlessly, he turned to receive the weapon from Ignatius. Gravely, he started up the path once more, this time with Ignatius by his side.

Watched only by the stallion and the stars above, they soon reached their destination.

At the front door of the centre of Percy van Pey's unlawful adventures, the two government employees stood.

And they knocked.

Word count: 1,104

IT BEGINS
Everyone seems to have a storyline, so I guess I need one too. It sort of follows off my character's official storyline which involves more of a country of time travellers and its political train wreck set in the 60s and 70s. haha I never actually wrote proper stuff about that because I'm the laziest bum on earth. This story will mostly stay in the 21st century though.

I don't write; I draw. This is just for fun c: As for languages, my characters are from around the world since I thought just British and Caribbean people would be rather boring. I'll just keep my writing in English so I don't disgrace any cultures with google translate.

I'll be back to edit this and fix mistakes eventually...

References: Forest Stock 30 FREE STOCK IMAGE - Midnight Forest STOCK - Friesian Show 2012-121
Horse: 9161 OMS Stranger GC