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    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


    what's past is prologue // augusta
    #2
    the night is my companion, and solitude my guide.
    The forest has always been her home.

    There had been a time when she had thought she would have been able to stray from the shadows that grow tall and long amongst the silent trees - but that time has long since passed. Her secluded alcove is familiar and warm, draped by her own magic that creates a trick of the light, hiding her from view and obscuring her from those who she did not want to be seen by. She curls up in the soft bed of lichen, drifting off to sleep every night with her shadows dancing beside her.

    And when she awakes, she finds that the gentle rays of the sun have coaxed her from her sleep. She blinks slowly, lifting her chin from her dark knees as a visible shudder trickles down her spine; winter is in the air, cold and fierce, and it makes her wary. The sound of a lonesome howl of a wolf in the distance brings the mare to her legs, shaking out the tightness of sleep.

    Another sound - almost like a howl - finds her attention. She is familiar with the mournful moan of wind through the trees, but Augusta knows that in this instance, that was not the case. Curious yet cautious, the dark blue mare departs from her copse of trees, determined to find the source of a sudden gust of powerful wind through the forest.

    She comes upon the winged stallion just as he attempts to throw himself to the sky for a second time. She pauses momentarily, single foreleg mid-air, her dark brown eyes watching him. And when he tucks those beautiful wings into his dappled sides, Augusta cannot help herself. The quiet girl draws up alongside him, fascinated by the way the sunlight catches on his coat, glinting softly.

    She’d never tell him, but she’s quite happy that he wasn’t able to leave just yet.

    “Don’t go,” she murmurs, her voice but a whisper, realizing that all the years she’s spent alone now brings her to this moment - begging a stranger to keep her company. “I mean,” she clarifies softly, “you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

    “I’m Augusta.”



    @[Clegane]
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    Messages In This Thread
    what's past is prologue // augusta - by Clegane - 10-25-2020, 03:54 PM
    RE: what's past is prologue // augusta - by Augusta - 11-01-2020, 09:13 PM



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