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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


    black bird singing in the dead of night
    #2
    Sreva was not one to take walks at night, as she preferred the bright light of the day so she could see the beauty of the land. Watch as the light of the sun's rays danced off the lake, making the water sparkle. As the red and yellow leaves fell from the trees, littering the ground and painting it a beautiful canvas, a sign of the approaching cold season and the snow that it always brought with it.

    Though Sreva's winter coat usually came in early, or late fall as it may be, she still retained her sleek, beautiful feminine appearance. Her unique paint and appaloosa-patterned coat did seem odd at certain angles, because for whatever reason her darker coloring's coat grew in sooner than the white spots. But that hadn't seemed to throw anyone off, considering that she had friends here in Hyaline, and Xzavier did too, thank goodness.

    If there was one thing that made the mare nervous about moving her colt here a little over a year ago, it was that he might not be able to make any friends. Sure, he was raised here practically from birth so it hadn't been too difficult, but in the beginning, he had been quite the quiet and shy being, preferring to spend time with his mother and father to the other colts, fillies, and young horses that lived here in Hyaline. But, over time, he got better about being around others, and now spent frequent amounts of time away from his parents, wanting to show he could be an independent yearling.

    Sreva did miss spending time with her son, but she did have other things here to keep her occupied. There was one thing that worried her though; she'd heard that, after six years of age, horses were often required to leave Hyaline. Sreva herself was already above six years when she got here with her colt. She assumed they allowed her to stay because she still needed to take care of him, as he was, at the time, on her milk. Now that he was a year old and could care for himself, would they ask her to leave if she didn't strive for a position in the kingdom?

    What should she do? Sure, she knew how to fight, and she was wise at enough times that she couldn't be thought of as rash or impulsive. But what could she offer to the kingdom that was valuable? Did she have any special enough skills that could be taught to the young foals that found solace here?

    The mare spent a good deal of time dwelling on these thoughts, so much so that she didn't even notice how far she'd wandered from the grove where she'd left her colt, or that it was creeping into the dawn hours. There was enough moonlight out that, whether it was dawn or not, she could still see her way, but it's not like she was even paying attention. Her instincts were responsible for keeping her on the move, her hooves searching the ground to help her avoid tripping over anything in her way.

    Sreva's instincts, ever so watchful to keep her alert to predators, told her of another sound nearby; running water. She knew that she wasn't too far from the lake now, since she'd been heading there back when she first left Xzavier and the grove. But since she spaced out, she was surprised she still ended up here. The mare's eyes drifted to look at the lake, the light of the moon bouncing off the surface and creating an almost ethereal glow, giving her a pleasant feeling and helping dim down the anxiety she'd been feeling for most of the walk here.

    Suddenly aware of how parched she'd become from that walk, Sreva wandered to the lakeside, lowering her head to take a drink. Her tapered muzzle delicately broke the lake's surface, sending out a cascade of ripples with each sip she took of the icy cold water. It helped immensely, despite its frigid temperatures, and the mare lifted her head when she was done, a few stray drops falling from her chin.

    For whatever reason, her eyes drifted down to the grass, and despite that it was still dark outside, she saw something. She lowered her head, sniffing at the grass before figuring out what it was. In the wet grass, in front of her... was a foot print. Puzzled as to who could be out here at this hour, Sreva took a step forward, seeing another imprint in the grass. She began following them, her curiosity overtaking any sense of caution.

    As she followed the prints, she noticed that she was starting to scale the small cliffside where the waterfall came down and crashed into the lake. She hadn't yet been up to the top to see it for herself, but could only imagine it was quite the beautiful site. Someone else apparently had the same thought, considering whoever it was had gone up that far. 

    Eventually, she reached near the top, stopping short because she saw another horse standing there. At first, she couldn't really tell who it was, due to how dark it was outside, but after a moment, the speckled coat and proud face became recognizable.

    Sreva smiled at getting the chance to see Chemdog; it had been some time since their last meeting. She saw him often as it was, but since he was trying to prepare for his new position and helping take care of the kingdom, it wasn't often enough for her, given she liked spending time with him. She didn't know why he'd come up here at this hour, but she was glad for the chance to see him nonetheless.

    She watches as he lowers his proud head to graze, and the mare quietly steps up to avoid startling him. The moonlight bounces off the white patches on her coat, nearly making her glow, her long mane falling gently over the right side of her neck to conceal the noticeable scar that Chemdog didn't seem to mind anymore. Not since the first time she'd shown it to him anyway.

    Her forelock fell over her left eye in a tidy fashion, but she could still see well enough that it didn't bother her. She didn't know and probably wouldn't consider it, but in that moment, she did look very pretty. She called out softly to the stallion she cared for deeply, her eyes soft and a peaceful smile on her face.

    "Hello Chemdog. It's good to see you," she tells him, moving her head some to look around his shoulder to see his handsome face.


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: black bird singing in the dead of night - by Sreva - 10-28-2017, 08:40 PM



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