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  • Beqanna

    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
    #4

     She tries to push down the soaring feeling of release in her chest.

    She tries to quiet the voice in her head that is telling her to do it again, to tear it all down.  And it works, a little.  As she stands above the stranger, making sure she hasn’t bludgeoned a potential resident to death (or even caused a touch of a concussion or permanent brain damage), she can quell the violent urge that stirs her blood into a frenzy.  Because War’s seal didn’t make her this way.  It has been inside of her already, since birth and all the days after.  The Bellringer’s quest had only amplified that which had existed within her all along.  It is hardwired in her, stubbornly attached to and expressed by her DNA.
      
    Her family has only been able to quash it better than she.

    But there is more than a thread of humanity in her, too.  So when her gold-tinged eyes stare into the green of the mares’ own, she is wholly concerned.  It is to her credit that the prone lady does not seem the least bit surprised that a parcel of the forest has come crashing down around her.  Titanya is impressed.  She probably would have shit herself and then beat the crap out of whoever did it.  The woman is fortunately more tolerant, and assesses her in silence.  She stares for a good long while, and it might have unnerved anyone other than Titanya.  She thinks maybe it is some form of punishment for her actions.  A judgmental stare down from an elder?  Sure, she’ll take it.

    She can’t know what this red and black woman had done to her family.  It was before her time, and frankly, she didn’t give a damn what happened then.  Worrying about the past has never done her any favors.  You make a lot of noise, the other tells her.  “Thank god,” the sabino says, indicating with a broad sweep of her muzzle the once-again still forest around them.  “Someone has got to.”

    And it is true.  Taiga is the most boring, sedentary place she’s ever found herself staying in for more than twenty minutes.  Something has to change; she’s only happy she can be the one to knock shit over and stir things up.  “Yeah, more or less.  I am a fairly recent transplant.”  The black and white mare reaches down to scratch an itch on her foreleg.  All this time stomping through the forest leaves her with a few extra accouterments: burrs, thorns, and pine needles poke her.  “There are a few of us.  Not as many as I’d like.”  Understatement of the year.  She wants the motion and action of many bodies.  She wants more interaction, more fire and friction.  “This place burned down before, and I guess no one realizes how quickly it grew back.  You staying or passing through?”  




    Titanya

    I've got no roots,
    but my home was never on the ground


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    Messages In This Thread
    in the middle of the night; anyone - by Amanita - 02-11-2018, 02:38 PM
    RE: in the middle of the night; anyone - by Titanya - 02-18-2018, 03:46 PM



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