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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


    a pocket full of posies; new babies
    #1
    The gate in the back pasture had been left open. This was a serious error that none of the barn staff had ever committed until now. Someone had been extremely careless and now, one of the foals freshly weaned had gone missing. Stolen, was the first thought then it became more likely that the foal had simply wandered off with nothing to stop it - like a gate, that should have been shut tight and locked.

    Gosh, she was tired!
    She’d been walking, and walking, and walking without end. Her hooves felt like they were going to fall off and she swore her legs were growing sore by the second. Of course, she had no actual comparison for time or soreness - she was now a grassfed baby fresh off her mama’s milk and put out to pasture in the back with the other foals like her. Or at least, she had been until she’d seen the break in the fencing and gone to investigate because she was way too curious to ignore such things as that.

    Stupid!
    She reprimanded herself, a small voice shrilling through the gray matter of her brain inside her big skull. Beneath the big blaze covering her face, she frowned as she stopped to take stock of her surroundings. Snowy. Everything was snowy and cold. But the cold didn’t bother her that much since she was a big shaggy thing - all fur and hooves and a big face that started to blink back big fat tears. She swore she wouldn’t cry! No tears! This was an adventure and she just had to ask for directions back to the big farm and pretty white fences lining the pastures, that’s all.

    Sniffling and scuffing her big feet through the snow, she came upon an iced over puddle. Big brown eyes started up at her from  a sad hairy face that had long whiskers and a bit of a beard. They were her eyes, she realized. Pitiful, but hers and with one stomp, she broke the ice and splashed around in the puddle for a moment until she was good and muddied up. Hah! Let them deal with it, those idiot people that left the gate open and allowed the baby Clydesdale to walk right through it. She huffed out a dragonlike puff of air, but it was a weird little snort that sounded more meek than ferocious.

    Fleck, lost and alone, began to feel the weight of the world settling heavily upon her shoulders. What now? This was all so… different.
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    Messages In This Thread
    a pocket full of posies; new babies - by fleck - 11-12-2017, 08:20 PM
    RE: a pocket full of posies; new babies - by Zella - 11-16-2017, 11:55 PM
    RE: a pocket full of posies; new babies - by Sefra - 11-17-2017, 01:51 PM



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