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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


    Agnieszka;
    #6






    Agnieszka



    ”Power.” She says without knowing why. The word slides from her lips in a breath, the sound, the very taste of it like seduction. A dark thing hisses through the cracks in the walls of her mind, writhing, hungry, furious but never quite escaping. Locked there but responding to the threat that is Stillwater, an ageless creature fractured and lost in the mind of a mare who can’t remember who she is, and is unlikely to ever remember.

    Had Stillwater been looking deep enough he might have glimpsed something behind her amethyst eyes after all.

    But she pulls those eyes away from him, because she’s trying to understand why she can taste that word. It’s the name that belongs over the empty place left when she wakes from her nightmares. This finding isn’t comforting but rather sends that much loathed sensation of terror through her veins. How she suddenly wishes she were alone. Her body is rebelling, and for all the fear she felt at this remembering without remembering she also felt a fiery desire. A latent longing like that left after waking from a dream of bedding a lover.

    She has nothing more to give him in regard to the question. Other things? The other things are blank places, and once again she is grateful for the absence. She is overheated even in the cool of the night, and her mind is growing louder and louder. What will quiet this? A twinge passes over her and she turns her gaze upon the black voids of the stallion’s eyes. Here is medicine, distraction. Folly.

    ”Stillwater. Don’t ask me anything more.” She breathes. He must know how mad she is, must smell the fear and longing like blood in the water. She is sane most of the time, real and new in this cleansed mind. When she found him she was well but already she is spiraling. Her ears drop back into the wind swept tangle of her mane, body language forbidding any further questions about her past. The vulnerable quaver of her voice does not match the aggression in her posture, but she is the one who draws nearer this time, and the distance between them is no longer so polite.


    an unequaled gift for disaster





    @[Stillwater]


    Messages In This Thread
    Agnieszka; - by Stillwater - 09-26-2018, 07:28 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Agnieszka - 09-26-2018, 09:43 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Stillwater - 09-27-2018, 04:31 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Agnieszka - 09-27-2018, 11:24 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Stillwater - 09-30-2018, 12:01 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Agnieszka - 09-30-2018, 05:35 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Stillwater - 10-06-2018, 06:03 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Agnieszka - 10-06-2018, 09:47 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Stillwater - 10-14-2018, 01:59 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Agnieszka - 10-14-2018, 08:58 PM
    RE: Agnieska; - by Stillwater - 10-21-2018, 05:50 PM
    RE: Agnieszka; - by Agnieszka - 10-29-2018, 06:44 PM
    RE: Agnieszka; - by Stillwater - 11-07-2018, 06:47 PM
    RE: Agnieszka; - by Agnieszka - 12-04-2018, 10:34 PM



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