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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


    ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any
    #1
    — find what you love and let it kill you —

    The meeting had rattled him more than he was willing to admit to himself. He knew he was a deeply inept leader—especially recently. What he brought to the table with experience and passion was often, if not always, outweighed by his own personal demons and, recently, by his deep-rooted depression. It was a hard monster to shake, the talons curled into his shoulders and refusing to be shook.

    That meeting, that encounter, had only reinforced his fears, deepened his doubts.

    Still, it also resolved his desire to do good by the people of Tephra, his adopted land. The majority of the faces that now dotted the landscape were not people who had followed him from the Gates, with a few exceptions, but were mostly those who had come from the Tundra, the Valley, the Chamber. Those who had come following Offspring, Eight, and Malis. Those who were now unrepresented by their leaders.

    It was up to him to earn their trust, protect their best interests, create a safe haven.
    It was a heavy burden to bear—and he was not sure he was up to the task.

    Not that he showed these fears, these concerns. Instead, as the meeting came to an end, he glanced toward Aranea and Longear, the two mares who had stepped forward to accompany him on his journey. He gave them a crooked, roguish smile. “Shall we then?” before he turned to the border, where the sulphur in the air grew less pungent and the humidity began to gently fade away. He was surprised to find he missed it.

    They traveled, for the most part, in silence, around the field and meadow and forest to where the trees grew less dense but larger, the trunks enormous in their width and their height. As the fog crawled along the ground, he was reminded of the Chamber, although the fog there was thicker, more ominous.

    It was unfortunate that he was unfamiliar with the new borders around the lands, but he stopped before they got too far, a tradition from a time now long gone, but one he found important regardless. He motioned to the two mares to do the same before he lifted his head and let loose a low, throaty call.

    It was time to see what had formed outside the borders of his own land.

    magnus



    @[Aranea] @[Longear]
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    ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - by magnus - 11-13-2016, 04:33 PM



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