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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


    so oftentimes it happens that we live our lives in chains. || merida
    #4
    Merida
    from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken

    His voice is gentle and certain as it reaches out across the wide berth that she has given them. He chuckles, and though she sees nothing funny to be chuckling about, she finds a hint of a smile tugging at one side of her lips. She is not herself, that she knew, but she could not help but feel as if this stranger, this Canaan, could tell too. The idea is not a pleasant one, the fire in her belly that lingers like smoldering embers seemingly dying into smoke within her. It needed to be stoked and stirred, for oxygen to enter and breathe the flames back into their burning splendor, for the light to once again reach her eyes.

    It had diminished, fallen quiet beneath the silent of her now home, suppressed by her solitary restlessness and fear of weakness. Something had begun to rekindle her spirit though, but it was perhaps not in a way that most would imagine a ‘reawakening’ would appear. Of course, Merida’s personality was probably not what Heda was imagining when she announced her reign over Loess.

    ‘But what’s life without a little risk?’

    Was he challenging her? Her ebony lids narrow over the burning red of her eyes, her smile pressing into a thin line as she contemplates him. The last time she had been in freezing waters she had almost met an icy death beneath the surface and the thought makes her wrinkle her nose. She flicks her tail against the freckled red of her haunch, glimmering like embers on her skin in the sunlight. “Little?” she repeats to him incredulously, staring at the rushing waters of the river with a single brow rising in amusement before her eyes roll unabashedly upwards. “That’s mighty big talk for someone who could easily fly away when a risk becomes too dicey.” She nods pointedly to the feathered wings at his side, beautiful and rich against his golden coat. She then lowers her head to sniff curiously at the freezing waters that mist quietly below her, her flaming red tendrils falling into her face.

    “Tell me, what a risk is when you have wings?”


    @[Canaan]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: so oftentimes it happens that we live our lives in chains. || merida - by Merida - 06-20-2017, 03:28 PM



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