• Logout
  • 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


    you can't feel nothing small (open)
    #1

    heaven help a fool who falls in love

    In her younger days, Adalyn thought she would become the greatest adventurer Beqanna ever saw. She spent the majority of her childhood climbing the sloping hills of the Dale, always trying to reach higher. She was always chasing after this story and that, fed by her mother’s folklore. Her legs grew strong quickly, as did her talent. Adalyn was constantly stretching herself to be better; to discover just how far she could take her water-bending skills before she rendered herself unconscious, to learn just how much of the world she could see from this height, to have the knowledge of which trail led where.

    As the years went by, her family slowly began to disappear. Adalyn found herself chasing after the stale scents of her family’s ghosts rather than the living, unfamiliar reality of Beqanna. Along the way of searching for her parents and childhood playmates, the black and gold mare realized her error. She had been putting her adventurous personality into something from the past rather than investing it in the future.

    That is the real reason she finds herself bravely walking into the meadow. The chatter of conversation mildly reminds her of the Dale when she was younger, but there is so much living here that she can barely constrain her excitement. Ever a darling of the water, Adalyn finds herself wandering closer toward the sound of a babbling stream. The sight she comes across is a pretty one – a syrupy sweet brook flowing alongside slender rocks eroded from time, shaded from the summer heat by a collection of healthy trees. There is a nice breeze blowing through, one that soothes the beginnings of sweat on Adalyn’s inky coat.

    A gentle sigh rises and falls out of her mouth. Idly, the mare passes the time by forcing the stream to flow back the way it came, then reversing it the proper direction after a few moments of travel.

    adalyn

    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)