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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


    [Santana] All I need is to remember, how it was to fee alive;
    #2
    He had been leaving the depths of the forest, after an illuminating discussion with a girl so very like and unlike him. Lost in his own thoughts, he wasn't quite fast enough to dodge the caramel bullet of a girl as she barreled toward him. 

    In stunned surprise he stood still, waiting for the impact that never came. Instead he blinks into the cloud of dust and mulched leaves that scattered under her feet, feeling bits of twig and bark pelt his shoulders while bright blue eyes blinked back at him. As the air settled Tana smiled lopsidedly. She was close enough that he could feel the warmth of exertion radiating from her skin, the light puff of her breath on his nose. There was something familiar in the way her eyes shone with excitement. 

    Clearing his throat lightly, the shimmering young stallion took a polite step back, amused by this sudden distraction. "Not a problem, I wasn't looking where I was going. I know you from somewhere, dont I?" He queried lightly, the soft leather of his wings rustling as he adjusted them. His head tilted to one side for a moment as he considered the possibilities. Shaking his mane out after a moment he grinned pensively. "Maybe not. I don't know how it would be possible for me to forget such a pretty face." 

    The blue-white threads of his lush mane caught in a thick fall down his neck as he moved, catching the light in fractured rainbows as it moved across his body. Tana had grown into a fine stallion, light boned like his mother but not lacking the hints baroque influence he'd inherited from his dragon-sire. Every inch of him that the sun touched shone in a hundred shades of blue, veins of ice separating the white and creamy gold of his patterned coat. Beyond this, he held a deep confidence born of the power that lurked just beneath his skin. Confidence that would only be skin deep when confronted with a girl so pretty. 

    @[Briella]
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    RE: [Santana] All I need is to remember, how it was to fee alive; - by Santana - 12-27-2018, 09:11 PM



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