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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


    [open]  sing until our jaws are broken; any
    #6

    Light a candle, cast a shadow.

    Her heart thuds heavily in a miserable breast as the other mares greet her, let her blend herself into their gathering as though she belongs there, but there is a sense of intrusion the she can't shake and it stops up her tongue like a mouthful of hair. Her dry throat sticks to itself, makes her choke, and instead of responding in kind to their introductions, she lowers her head to the icy river and drinks too much water as if to drink away the awkwardness that she has brought with her like another one of her shadows. The water cools a parched throat, but nothing more.

    It occurs to her that this was a mistake, coming in among these two, and her lack of experience hides from her their own lack of social niceties, that one is as cool as the ice she makes and the other a touch too bright. Beryl feel ill-equipped to handle either one of them and it leaves a sour taste in her mouth that she swallows thickly. The shadows she forced away flow to her feet again, drawn by the anxious stutter of her pulse and by the worry that gathers at the creases of her eyes, and the cool air feeling of their touch bolsters her. She returns Bean's smile again, hesitant, but more genuine than the first time, then looks to Annapurna with a nod.

    "He's the smartest man I know!" She doesn't add that he is the only man she knows, and she doesn't add that she is avoiding him because she cannot stand the sight of dragons, not even one that breathes ice instead of fire. Not even one that saved her. There is that feeling again of ice-water filling her lungs, as if she is drowning, and she coughs lightly to relieve the imaginary pressure, letting the sun warm the chill from her back, 

    "You're awfully far south for someone who prefers the cold." And then, with a shy laugh, "When I was younger I worried he might melt, but he never did. You won't, either, will you? I can't offer much but I can get you out of the sun." The shadows stir and darken, grow thicker until the space within them is dark as the deepest place in the forest at their backs, but she holds them back from the other mares, unsure if the offer will be welcome.

    "Oh-- my name is Beryl."
    Image by Kharthian


    @[annapurna] @[bean]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: sing until our jaws are broken; any - by bean - 03-17-2020, 08:18 PM
    RE: sing until our jaws are broken; any - by bean - 03-23-2020, 07:29 PM
    RE: sing until our jaws are broken; any - by Beryl - 04-23-2020, 10:02 PM



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