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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


    Swimming in the depth of my love; any
    #2




    The creature Tunnel does not make plans. His designs are created in the moments during which they are enacted. Seers do not find him easily even though he has no magical means of evading them. Most of the monsters in this forest hunt but this one does not, he only exists very still in the darkness until something comes to him or he suddenly moves off through the night.

    Nightfall comes on slowly and in time leaves behind an ever shifting world of shadows that blurs fuzzily before the eyes of all but the owls and foxes. Most are eager for the dark and predators move through the needles and leaves, scratching and rustling. Black barred ears pivot slowly, listening to these familiar slitherings. A girl, onyx and white tests his tolerance for her, resting her small head over the slope of his strong short back. Another of his pets will chase her off soon, or the beast himself may turn suddenly to punish her without warning.

    He has been in this tangled forest for years and is familiar with it’s night music and so he turns he head not toward the lesser creatures going about their routine but the silence that that pushes them back. Flat grey eyes find the subtlest and most diffuse glow, challenging the descent into total blackness beneath the ancient trees. The quiet lies just there, a meadow this time of night should be full of the sounds of deer grazing and roaming, being chased even but instead there is only quiet.

    All the pets, the precious things are left behind to drift into the twilight wood together. The monster goes to inspect the quiet, a decision made instantly. Heavy bodied, his face masked in smudged black Tunnel pushes quietly through the undergrowth and into the meadow. Large hooves carrying him slowly toward the pale creature glowing so offensively. An angel cast adrift in their forest. “You do not belong here, lightwings.” It is a gravelly voice but the words are a statement, not a threat. “You are going to attract moths.”

    like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves
    as though we were drowning inside our hearts




    @[Ilma]
    the heart moving through a tunnel
    in it darkness, darkness, darkness
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    Messages In This Thread
    Swimming in the depth of my love; any - by Ilma - 07-14-2019, 10:34 AM
    RE: Swimming in the depth of my love; any - by Tunnel - 07-14-2019, 03:16 PM



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