All Welcome [I] Унаач - Printable Version

AW [I] Унаач - Printable Version

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[I] Унаач - Yesugei - 7/5/2026

[Image: dbgnffo-6196d456-719b-4070-9b38-f1fe5808...FRnG3OUAk4]

Yesugei woke to the sound of hooves across ground, the rumble echoing beneath the space where his head lay. It was a sound that could wake even a dead man out of a stupor, leaving him quaking beneath the waves of nature as it tosses manes and scatters rocks beneath hooves. The heaviness of his head lingered as it was raised, a cloudiness clutching the threads between his eyes as they drew in what was before him.

Brightness urged his eyes to half-mass, and it was with a heavy, tight breath that he took in the unfamiliarity. The loss. The lack of home and the remnants of what once was that clung like soot to his mind. Something stirred behind him, the sound like paws scuffing against dirt—or something harder. There was patience in his movements as he peered over his shoulder, mouth dry and tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

And staring back at him was a snout larger than his, with a head and a body to rival. Long hair trickled down an auburn neck, and a snort, curious or threatened, was huffed at him with enough force and enough snot to urge his eyes closed.

He sat unmoving, a hard eye opening long enough to discern that it wouldn't be drenched before he settled back and opened the other. A dry nose twitched in time with the stallion's and Yesugei's lips parted into a strained grin. How utterly curious.

RE: [I] Унаач - Oyun - 7/6/2026

She finds relief in the herd coming to know where ger is to ensconce itself in this new world. Their uncertainty oft disturbed her more than the worming doubt that keeps her head on a swivel. Still, horses do as horses must.

Oyun trails behind the herd, their venture toward the river splits her patrol into one of investigation as an alerting snort from her horse. He throws his head west of their path, huffing out agitation that tempers her approach. "Dulguun, that is no elaboration," she chides, heeding him nevertheless. He, however, dismisses this, leaving her to do the work of clarification.

As the others continue on, she breaks off, finding herself in the company of one of the stallions and...

...she slows, not immediately recognizing him. This, of course, makes him a stranger and what is a stranger if not a threat?

"You have met the welcome party it seems," Oyun nears the man with tail stiffly swaying, watching. "He didn't make a mess of you... So I'll trust his judgment for the moment." She stops. "Who are you?"

RE: [I] Унаач - Yesugei - 7/6/2026

Yesugei found no qualm in such a beast, its curiousness wayward in the sense of caution. If he were a young colt himself, he might have thought to lift a paw. To openly touch what was not his, and he was sure a hoof would've found its place quite nicely in the space between his brows should he even jest a thing. Alas, despite his appropriately formed mind, he huffed a chuff back at the stallion, eyes narrowing in a dare until the voice of another rang out.

His eyes slowly and warily removed themselves from the horse long enough to settle on the woman. Draped in the soft auburns of browns so unlike the paleness of the plains, his eyes were drawn. A dry tongue flapped loosely in his mouth before he shifted into a sit. Around him, everything else seemed lifeless. In the distance, he could hear the droll of hooves, still present enough to make him aware of their closeness but distant enough to give privacy where it seemed appropriate.

He was appreciative of whatever thought was or wasn’t there.

With a quick shift of his tongue over his cracked nose, his mouth parted in what could only be perceived as a certifiable croak.

Yesugei. A name plain enough. Of Altanerkhi Clan. And you are? He spoke to her but his gaze had traveled back to the stallion, who seemed less than interested in him now as it grazed on one of the only spots of grown wheat.

RE: [I] Унаач - Oyun - 7/10/2026

Ruminative flick of ear. His name rolls round in her skull as rusted gaze discerns him. In truth, his designation means very little. Yet origins reap memory and mention of the Altanerkhi peoples draws thought to Tselmuun. It'd been her clan.

Past tense, long ago, because this was and is the nature of women; to go where they're needed rather than where they wish. Circumstance and men are similar that way. Oyun, therefore, is uncertain of him.

"Oyun, khatun of Alukhai," she addresses him now with a jut of her chin, indication to rise. "I'm familiar with the Altanerkhi, a dear friend of mine hails from your people." Oyun's brow furrows. He is undeserving of elaboration still. "What purpose did you serve them? What title did you hold?"

RE: [I] Унаач - Yesugei - 7/12/2026

He rose at her gesture without hesitation. Old courtesies surviving where most things had not. Dust slipped from his legs as he found his footing, the prairie wind teasing the coarse fur at his shoulders.

Oyun.

The name lingered, unfamiliar. The title did not.

Khatun.

A woman worthy of respect.

His ears tipped forward at her mention of the Altanerkhi. Familiarity from a stranger was uncommon, though she offered no name to accompany her claim, and such the man saw no reason to ask. It was her next question that settled between them. Wanting. Probing.

What purpose did you serve them?

Yesugei was quiet for a time, watching the stallion graze with the careless confidence of a creature that feared little. I was meant to be a warrior, he said at last. I hunted. Fought when called. Guarded those who crossed our lands. His gaze drifted across the plains, jaw tightening.

I held no title worth speaking of.

Only then did he look back to her. I was simply Yesugei. Man of Altanerkhi. The words carried no regret, only the quiet certainty of a life measured by dead rather than names.