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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


    could i use you as a makeshift gauge; anyone
    #7

    -Adria-

    Observant enough to notice that the stallion, Ivar, seemed to shift and curl himself into Wrena, Adria feels the beginnings of a suspicion tingle at the back of her thoughts. His confidence and stature are at once equal to Adria’s in their sense of self-importance, his smile a clear indication of his thoughts without words to accompany them. She believed he was the type who never took ‘no’ for an answer, and that inclination made this meeting all the more enjoyable to the Nereid.

    He gestures quickly - Adria’s eyes don’t follow - and then his claimant over one islet in particular gives the coral-colored mare a flourishing smirk as response, the tilt of her eyes towards each other in a plain expression of clear pity, and the most light bells of laughter, “Of course it is, dear.” She consoles his ego, exactly like she’d console a spoiled child.

    Then to Wrena, “This is a nice island we have, if you choose to make it so. Then your guest could stay at your preferred leisure.” Her focus is pointed but not rude or demanding. Curious, if anything. The way she speaks is for Wrena and Wrena alone; her attention is swept up by the way the dragonkin is so evidently magnetic. Adria is here for her, Ivar is clinging to her like a drowning man in need of a life raft. Wrena is center stage.

    “But I like to think myself a woman of honest word so I’ll leave you be. I apologize if my appearance was… ” Her sentence hangs, ripening while she moves comfortably around them and out toward the sea. Her path is predestined, but when she edges into the water it’s not exactly ‘in to’; her hooves move on top of and keep her suspended above the small, lapping shoreline. “Unexpected.” Adria finishes, glancing back at the couple.

    “We can speak further any time you’d like.” The Dame smiles. She hesitates briefly for the sake of any conversation that might follow, but if none comes then the waves will curl unnaturally up around her to grasp the mare in their embrace and pull her under.

    Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me



    @[wrena] @[Ivar]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: could i use you as a makeshift gauge; anyone - by Adria - 06-27-2019, 02:53 PM



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