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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


    in the middle of the night; anyone
    #1

    amanita
    in the middle of the night - i go walking in my dreams


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    It was the scent of pine and death that drew her.

    Familiar. Comfortable. Her mother, who smelled of pine, had trudged to the beach to deliver her last child and died within days of the birth. And there Amanita had remained for some time after. Nudging the body, confused, curious. Soon she had been forced to leave, sustenance was required if she didn’t want to join the red mare. But her death had stuck with the filly and ever after that she would believe she’d see her dead mother or another of the bodies she’d encountered in her journey out of the Beach, just out of sight, hiding in the shadows. For a long time they were the only constant in her life. Those shadowy figures that danced just out of sight.

    At least until he came. Her mind shied away from the name, for it would only leave her wanting. Then he was her constant, though she never forgot them. The visions of dead dancing in her head. When he drifted out of her life they came again. For a while she felt as if she was in-between life and death. Existing on the fringes. Never drawing closer. Until one day she shook off the cobwebs and crept from the shadows.

    Almost nothing was the same. The land she knew had buckled beneath the weight of the injustice the residents had heaped upon it. She had found comfort in the Meadow. Familiar she had hesitated to venture beyond the borders, unsure of what she would find. No Dewdrop Deserts, no Chamber. But, as she flitted between the new territories the scent of pine had tugged her nose and more fiercely at her blood. As she had come closer it seemed that once again the inhabitants had wrought disaster and most of what she found was ruin. Yet somehow that suited her just fine.

    She dug her nose down into the blanket of pine that somehow decorated the floor of a forest covered in redwoods. Familiar. Comforting. The red and black mare dropped to her knees and rolled to her side crushing the pine beneath her heavy body. She stretched her legs out and sighed happily. It had been long since she felt this content.


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    in the middle of the night; anyone - by Amanita - 02-11-2018, 02:38 PM



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