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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


    deep in my bones i can feel you [Spyndle]
    #1
    no matter what we breed we still are made of greed

    I will always find you

    He’s out of his mind, or perhaps he’s just lost deep within it. He said he would find her, and still he is uncertain if he himself is missing. His thoughts don’t seem to be his own, everything is new, everything is familiar. Everything is a mess within his head, memories flooding him from their encounter.

    The still in the wood when they met. Long forgotten are the cries of the ravens because they didn’t matter then, and they don’t matter now. The momentary brush of her warm skin as they collided. The soft down of her feathers, fleeting as touch had been. He can still taste her scent in the damp air as he leaves the Chamber borders, though still he doesn’t realize he’s tracking her-not yet.

    It’s a time before he does, sorting through his thoughts as he is, part desire, part denial. His head warns him away, that women are trouble, as they always have been. This one had even admitted to being as much, on the run from some unknown. It’s been a long time since he’s felt anything akin to the fire Engelsfors had brought to his life. Still he grimaces at the memory, a frown tugging at his darkened lips before he can send his past back to the recesses of his mind. It’s a dark place where he keeps many a clouded memory, yet the mother of his children always comes back to haunt him in a vivid manner. Like it or not.

    It’s then that he realizes he is skirting the edge of the common grounds, the forest lands full of spruce and saplings. It’s no surprise that he is drawn to the familiarity of a wood, the tall trunks smelling deep and dank but lacking the pine scent of home. Only one here or there, intermingled with oaks and birch and spruce alike. A chaotic abundance of species all meshed into one biome, creating a disarray of smells that he finds oddly reassuring. And he knows she’s been here, her scent still hanging in the air. The essence of airy feathers leaving him with a sense of longing and he can’t explain why. Nor does he have an explanation for calling her name, ever so soft as his deep baritone can.

    " Spyndle?"

    KILLDARE
    this is my kingdom come
    The Dragon Lord & Colonel of the Chamber


    @[Spyndle]
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    deep in my bones i can feel you [Spyndle] - by Killdare - 01-25-2016, 09:24 AM



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