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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


    under a swollen silver moon; topsail
    #7

    etro --

    in the hushing dusk, under a swollen silver moon,
    I came walking with the wind to watch the cactus bloom

    Etro could not deny that reining in her ability was taking its toll. Her neck was slick with sweat, frothing in places, and she could feel herself breathing heavily. But she also understood that it was worth it; if she was unable to control it, even for a few moments, this filly would not be able to communicate with her. She smiles gently when Topsail reaches out to brush her shoulder, and she leans into the child’s touch for a second, comforted by the physical contact. It felt like ages since she had been around a friendly face.

    “It feels like magic,” she says tightly, her voice strained from the effort—but she manages another smile, her muddy brown eyes kind despite the exhaustion that began to pull at the edges of them. “It would seem that the heavens gifted you with an even better voice,” she murmured and wondered at how lucky the child had been to be born with the gift that practically negated what others could see as a defect. Not that Etro viewed it that way—but she had no way of knowing the struggles of being mute in a world of noise.

    With an apologetic look toward Topsail, Etro relinquished her hold on the edges of her negation, and she felt it flood the area one more. She dropped her bulky head and closed her eyes, focusing on catching her breath. Her sides heaved, and she was quiet for several moments. It was more difficult to do that when the power was so close; she had managed to hold onto it for longer when her mother had been wading through life and death to find Vanquish. Etro wondered if Yael’s lack of mental presence made it easier.

    The truth was that Etro had no idea what her negation meant—or how it worked. She knew in some distant corner of her mind that it could be powerful, but she did not know how; she only knew that what she was meant she was denied some of the beauty of this land. And for that reason, she hated it. Calmer, Etro reached for the edges again and curled it toward her, gaining a steadier grip. She looked toward Topsail. “So where are you from?” She’d be damned if she’d stop a friendly conversation from happening.

    -- vanquish and yael's forgotten trait-negating princess --

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    Messages In This Thread
    under a swollen silver moon; topsail - by etro - 11-03-2015, 12:32 AM
    RE: under a swollen silver moon; topsail - by etro - 11-24-2015, 01:28 AM



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