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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


    my heart is darker than these oceans -- ceara
    #1
    like the sun swallowed up by the earth
    Dawn alights on the dark angles of his face, chasing away the starlight from his skin and enveloping him in his entirety in an soft, orange glow. Even at its daybreak, the sun warms the land quickly with its brilliant heat, causing the once shrouded foliage to open up at its gentle touch of light. Warrick does the same, stretching his broad wings beneath the familiar warmth, shaking the moonlight and stardust from his cobalt wings.

    He had spent the night flying through a sea of stars, his skin smelling of clear, crisp air and the soft dew from the clouds. Even his mane is still damp from his flight through them, clinging to his neck and face as the sun begins to dry him, each ray of light filling each crevice between his feathers, and each curve and slope of his shoulders and chest.

    He stands on the shoreline, where the tide had receded far enough back into the ocean that small tide pools have opened up all over the blackened beach, the gentle morning breeze rippling the shallow waters. Warrick brings his wings back to his sides once they have dried, flapping them once in one great swoop before folding them carefully, turning his head to preen the feathers gently with his teeth and to put them back in their rightful place. The act causes his mind to drift to Ellyse - the one who showed him how to maintain and use his wings, and his chest tightens. Her absence leaves him feeling vulnerable and on edge; not only hers, but Dahmer’s as well. 

    Warrick continues to groom himself, lost deeply in thought as he ponders Tephra’s situation at hand - the country is susceptible to any act at this point and he fears the worst, especially when he himself lacks any sort of ability that would render his enemies weaponless. Can he protect those within the mainland? Can he keep them safe? Though he enjoys the power of flight more than he cares to admit, he cannot help but feel powerless - he is no magician, no fire-wielding wraith, nor shifter. 

    He is simply Warrick.

    Will that be enough?
    Warrick


    @[Ceara] <3


    Messages In This Thread
    my heart is darker than these oceans -- ceara - by Warrick - 12-20-2017, 07:27 PM



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