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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


    fault lines tremble underneath my glass house; atrox and any
    #2
    a t r o x --

    For the most part, Atrox had been enjoying his respite from work. He had spent several years raising Ana after Elite had left, teaching her how to hunt, how to behave [mostly], and how to enjoy the fine art of rebellion. She was a quick study and while she was…admittedly a little crude, he had come to enjoy her outbursts of energy—her blunt honesty, lack of social graces, and, if he was being wholly honest with himself, her strength. He had never seen anyone hunt large game with quite as much natural prowess.

    It had been fascinating to watch her come into her own.

    Which made their farewell a little bittersweet, although he had known it had been for the best. Perhaps one day she would find her way back to the kingdom of pine and fog, but until then, she needed to find her own path. As loyal to the Chamber as he was, the panther-stallion had no desire to force his own bloodline to live here. The Chamber did not need unwilling soldiers; she needed those willing to bleed.

    Still, his days had grown admittedly stagnant—the hours long, the nights cold. That is, they had, until tonight. He had been in his cat form lounging in a tree when the two had appeared out of thin air next to its trunk, a duo so eerily similar in build and so clearly newly born that he started. Sniffing, watching the two as they tangled and then untangled, he peered down, long tail swishing back and forth through the air.

    “Well, well,” he finally murmured in his lethargic drawl. “What do we have here?”

    He considered them for a moment longer, feeling the electric charge in the air, before he padded his way down the tree. They were a study of purple and mulberry and the color of the deepest part of the night sky—and they were related to him. He could feel the connection tugging him internally, the strangest of sensations. “What are you?” he mused to himself, touching his feline nose to their shoulders. What strange creation had been created now? And why did he feel like they were connected to him?

    panther-stallion | ex-king | forever chamber guardian
    [Image: atrox.png]

    now be defiant, the lion, give them the fight that will open their eyes

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    RE: fault lines tremble underneath my glass house; atrox and any - by atrox - 11-17-2015, 02:09 AM



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