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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    such selfish prayers; any
    #1

    — I'm not here looking for absolution —

    Stave has never been someone who is particularly interested in socializing.

    He has found that it is a boring use of his time and that most others that he meets are dull and dim-witted, hardly worth the exertion it took to maintain a conversation. Still, for all of his hours spent experimenting with the dead and the undying, there is a piece of him that can sometimes yearn for more—that grows more interested about the things that grow outside of the wasteland that is his home.

    So, this morning, he rose and instead of moving into the shadows of the nooks and crannies that he has found, he instead turns to the border. He wrinkles his nose in distaste at the thought of finding others, but he cannot deny the curiosity that bubbles in his veins—great enough to override the displeasure at the idea of being around others. Enough that he continues walking when he wish he wouldn’t.

    Pangea begins to bleed away in all of its glory and it is soon replaced with the meadow, teeming with life and crowds. It is busy today, he thinks, his depthless eyes scanning the groups of horses that mill about before he skirts the edges to continue. He has no great desire to walk into the sunshine today.

    Instead, he continues walking, the scent of death clinging heavily to him and scattering the small birds and creatures in front of him. He reaches a narrow point of the river and quickly splashes through it, the mud splattering up his inky legs. His lips curl but he continues forward to where the trees grow more and more thick, the shadows stretching out further in front of them. He exhales then, comforted by it.

    It is quiet around him, but he can feel the traces of life echoing in the outer rings of his consciousness.

    Perhaps he will tug on them to see what answers.

    Perhaps he will simply sit in the shadows and breathe.

    STAVE
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    #2
    Questa rose to a warm morning, she pondered the day that lie before her. She had done nothing but rest the past few days. She knew that she needed to befriend another. Someone who knew the land. However, she was afraid. She was unsure of what was ahead of her. She stood quietly alone, hidden in the tall trees. Her ears moved in every direction, searching for danger or a potential companion.

    Finally, someone else was near. Her body jolts at the sound of splashing water and scurrying creatures. Her head raises high, ears perk as she searches for the source. Her eyes scan until they land on a creature she feels is like nothing she has experienced before. He looks tall, taller than her. She now knows the small animals of the forest were fleeing from him. She asks herself if she should do the same. But she cannot, she is much too consumed in the dark horse that walks before her.

    Questa remains silent, trying to decide her next move. She lowers her head, hoping he will not catch her. But she knows that will not hold true, he will see her, she is sure.
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