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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


    [mature]  many before me have come, after me there will be none; zor
    #1
    dovev

    "I gotta get up!"

    He meant to yell it as if it could spur his muscles into action, inject adrenaline into his veins, rather than lie here prone and useless. Instead, it came out a whispered rasp, his throat dry and lips cracked enough to bleed. And there he lay, still prone with his sides heaving and bone armor digging into his frail-looking body under his own weight.

    "Fuck!"

    God, it'd been torture. He'd had Rhonen's disease before and this was something else, something stronger. It was the same disease but amplified somehow, reaching further and affecting him harder. But it'd been torture to have to lay here and watch her walk away. He hadn't even been able to make his mouth move to call for her, push any sound from his throat as he watched Leliana wander in a disoriented stupor. Her steps fumbled. Her eyes were hazy. She didn't have a damn clue what she was doing, where she was going. And she was fucking leaving him! Again.

    His skin burned as though that man of fire were laying across him, feverish and sweating. The only one left near him though was Zoryn, his familiar scent both easing Dovev and sending him into another panic. Oh god, Zoryn was sick too. They all were. How bad was it, though? It had better not kill the gold stallion or Dov would find a way to resurrect Rhonen just to kill him again, the bastard. He wouldn't take his best friend from him. His only friend.

    Dov's eyes were open, scanning as much as he could with his cheek pressed to the rotted ground. The most he managed was a soft huff, a quiet grunt as he tried to shift his head to see Zoryn. But he couldn't. He could hardly move at all. And he grew so fatigued so quickly, that he had to stop fighting already and lay still once more.

    "Zoryn.." he whispered, before it all went beautifully black.
    The black he craved. The black he'd hunted for when Leliana had stayed with him that first night and stole all ability to sleep without her thereafter.

    He had to get up.
    He had to get to her.

    we're slaves to any semblance of touch

    Lord, we should quit but we love it too much



    @[Zoryn]

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    many before me have come, after me there will be none; zor - by Dovev - 11-02-2018, 10:02 PM



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