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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


    [private]  hear them calling in the distance; szene
    #1

    we carry these things inside that no one else can see
    they hold us down like anchors; they drown us out at sea

    The Forest was not his venue of choice. Magnus’ hooves had packed a hard trail between the Gates and the Field time and time again, and the sun-drenched stallion could often be found on those trails. He would either be walking amongst the newcomers and the searching within the Field or around the borders of the Gates—rarely stopping, rarely resting. Never allowing his mind enough time to grasp onto all that he had lost. Never allowed his mind to settle onto fears that woke him up in cold sweats or the ache in his belly when he thought of Joelle sinking into the waves or Minette fading into the distance.

    He worked and worked until he did not sleep so much as pass out. So that when he did finally succumb each night, it was to the absolute and utter darkness of exhaustion. Then he slept dreamless dreams.

    Then he was at peace.

    But, today, his path had altered. He had found himself in a previously undiscovered section of Beqanna and instead of pushing back toward the path he knew best, he continued walking, head hanging low as his nose brushed up against the pine needles and mulch. There was something comforting about being within the borders of a place he did not know. There were no ghosts here—no memories to haunt him. He could walk and not see flashbacks to his past. He could feel himself unwinding at the prospect of it, relaxing.

    It was then that he saw the black mare walking through the trees and, to his relief, he finds that she does not remind him of anyone. Not the softness of Joelle or the quiet strength of Minette or the rough edges of his mother. It was as much of a relief as walking into the Forest. So Magnus didn’t bother avoiding her. Instead, he walked casually toward the mare, mouth lifting into a lopsided smile, gold-flecked eyes bright.

    
“Hello there,” he greeted gently, his voice all whiskey and smoke. “How are you doing today?”

    magnus



    @[Szene]
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