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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


    slung low in the highlands; castile
    #3

    Though the recent shift in power would undoubtedly draw newcomers here like an undertow, Kora knows nothing of the changing of the Loessian crown. What she does know is that she has drawn a stranger’s attention, though she chooses to ignore it – that is, until his attentions serve to evaporate the snowfall that usually surrounds her with a single breath of flame. Even as the bout of fire pours from his maw, daggers of ice burst reflexively forth from Kora’s armor – though the radiant heat is enough to reduce them to mere pellets that bounce off his bicolored coat like hail.

    Whether she had actually intended to spare him from impalement or not remains entirely inscrutable, though the winter mage admittedly feels a strong urge to wipe the grin from his rugged face altogether. After a beat, however, her lips tilt upward at the corners too. “It’s no bother at all,” she responds in a whisper-soft voice, the quiet sound entirely contradictory to the sharp-edged defiance flickering within her icy blue gaze. “I don’t mind a little rain.”

    What she does mind is the fact that she just might have been momentarily cowed by him. The plume of fire had taken her by surprise, and despite a quick recovery Kora feels sure he had seen it – this being an entirely unacceptable outcome in her mind. In another life, his theatrical jest might have made her blush and stammer and duck her gaze to hide the evidence of a butterfly-heart behind her long lashes. Now, however, she returns his stare outright until he introduces himself.

    Kora blinks a little, like she were confused. “I beg your pardon?” The wintry mare pauses before appearing to catch on. “Ah, Castile, is it?” She draws out the name as though to ensure its correct pronunciation. “Forgive me, but I almost thought you’d been overcome by a cough.” A silvery laugh slips from her lips even as her chin lifts ever so slightly. “Though after all that smoke, can you really blame me?”

    kora

    mage of winter


    @[Castile] she decided to be cheeky right back and pretended his name sounds like a cough *dies*


    Messages In This Thread
    slung low in the highlands; castile - by Kora - 02-08-2019, 01:20 PM
    RE: slung low in the highlands; castile - by Kora - 02-16-2019, 02:08 AM
    RE: slung low in the highlands; castile - by Kora - 03-03-2019, 01:42 AM



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