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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


    i'm a leaf on the wind; bristle
    #1
    Oh, bother.

    Little Gust quivered in the shadow of a big old oak tree whose leaves were turning all orange just like his middle bits, though he was framed in black and the leaves were mostly not. Some had brownish crispy edges, but he was not brown and crispy. His darker edges were soft black baby fuzz, velvety nose and ears and fluffy baby mane and whatnot.

    Still, the orange was nice camouflage, even if those crispy bits meant his steps were louder than he would like. If he was careful maybe they wouldn’t be so very loud. And probably it was more important to find Momma than to be quiet, though goodness knew what could happen if he were not quiet. All sorts of scary beasties hiding in the dark could hear the crispy crunch and come running.

    Ohhhh just the thought sent shivers down his spine. He peeked slo-o-o-o-owly around the trunk, looking for a round chestnut rump that was nowhere to be seen. But also looking out for big scary teeth or eyes glowing in the shadows or monsters hiding in the fallen leaves or the bushes or oh up in the trees too.

    When death didn’t fall on him from above, or leap at him from the shadows, or launch itself up out of a pile of leaves, he took one creeeeeeping step forward, placing his tiny black hoof down as carefully and as quietly as he could manage. And then another. And another. When he paused to look around agai--

    AAH! Something touched his butt! He jumped forward, craning his head around to see what had attacked him and getting his legs all tangled up in the process. And as he tumbled to the ground with a crunchy leaf-rustling clattering crash, he realized...it was a leaf.

    A leaf had touched his butt.

    Not a monster.

    Not a slobbering, drooling, ravenous wolf.

    Just. A teensy. Little. Leaf.

    Oh bother indeed.
    pic by paradis photography
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    Messages In This Thread
    i'm a leaf on the wind; bristle - by Gust - 12-18-2016, 01:47 AM
    RE: i'm a leaf on the wind; bristle - by Rustle - 12-22-2016, 03:50 PM
    RE: i'm a leaf on the wind; bristle - by Briske - 01-05-2017, 02:18 PM



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