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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


    And breathe me; any
    #4




























    The snorts of the dark stallion does not even stir the mare for she had been subjected to unimaginable things. Instead, she continues the slow gait whilst looking to the horizon of the golden eyed sun as it wept yellow, orange, and red as it set. Silently, she prays the sun will burn her up with the wink of it's light before evening but no, not today.

    He is moving quicker than October could possibly notice and he is wrapped around her and squeezing her and for a brief moment she wonders if it was a hostile male looking to lay a seed in her belly-

    but-

    No. It can't possibly be...

    The scent overwhelms her as her brain slogs and fights to understand. Like clawing through fog, she finally finds him. "Manhattan." The word is almost a croak as it has been so, so long. The buckskin woman can not help but to stumble slightly and fall against him. She was so tired

    (so impossibly tired)

    of the scrapes on her knees, the dullness of her skin, the tangles in her hair. She wants to feel the warmth of the sun again, feel the breeze on her face. Long lashes lift to meet his eyes like a lost child. They are wet and almost too large for the thinness in her face. Once she regains her footing, October attempts to offer him a smile after his apology. "It's ok, Manny, it's ok." The words are soft as she whispers them to him, attempting to comfort him in only a way she knew and to try and understand why he was apologizing.

    But...

    from the edge of her eye was a dark stallion. The buckskin woman balks backward a few paces to look to Manhattan as though this was some kind of trickery, some kind of game. Her face moves from the inky black of a hulking stallion within a thick tree clump of trunks to the cocoa painted one of Manhattan. "What is this?" The syllables work from her lips but only measure up to that of a low soprano. The fright thumps her heart hard in her chest as she looks to back away but fear has frozen the raven haired woman and her eyes grow wet with fear and confusion as to why this was all happening to her again.

    October
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    Messages In This Thread
    And breathe me; any - by October - 08-22-2016, 04:48 PM
    RE: And breathe me; any - by velis - 08-22-2016, 06:44 PM
    RE: And breathe me; any - by October - 08-26-2016, 09:12 PM



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