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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


    i'm not a girl. i'm a storm with skin . ivar - any
    #14

    I V A R
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
    Whatever Ivar had expected, this was certainly not it.

    As the son of a sea monster and a genie, there should be little in this magical world that still surprises Ivar. Yet the little teal filly suddenly glowing lavender and projecting light in the recesses of a black cave is certainly startling.

    “That’s an interesting trick,” says the scaled stallion, stepping farther back into the cave now that it is illuminated. His scaled nose is wrinkled at the strong smell (guano is guano no matter how well lit) but eventually they’ve moved past the roosting area, and the ground beneath his hooves is nothing but stone and earth and dust. Ivar’s ears turn toward the filly as she speaks, and his mouth twists in a smile at her enthusiasm and optimism.

    “A whole lake?” he repeats, as the stalactites grow taller around them, “now that would be very interesting.” Keeping up the conversation while mulling over the prospect is engaging, and Ivar walks steadily deeper into the bowels of the earth, his brown eyes averted from the too-bright of Celest’s violet light.

    The cave begins to widen around them, something that Ivar barely registers, as he is focused on the increasing slant in the floor. Perhaps Celest was right after all – there could very well be a lake down here. It would do him little good (he couldn’t make it back here without light – he’d surely brain himself on a low-hanging stalagmite) but the idea is appealing regardless.

    Kicking a loose stone, Ivar follows the sound as it clatters down the slope, and then hears the very familiar wet plop as it meets water. The tobiano glances over to Celest, to see if she’s heard it as well, excitement on his face.


    kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis



    Messages In This Thread
    RE: i'm not a girl. i'm a storm with skin . ivar - any - by Ivar - 11-03-2017, 07:31 AM



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