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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


    a beautiful oblivion. || despoine
    #1

    i swallow my doubt, turn it inside out - find nothing but faith in nothing.

      The gentle caress of summer weaves its way through her ruffled feathers as a quiet breeze touches delicately along her pale golden pelt, a long and drawn out sigh emerging from her parted, whiskered lips. It had been a long time - too long, perhaps - since she had descended into the shadows of a once familiar pathway of heavy rock and sloping foliage. The shadows beckon her forth and she falls into temptation, savoring the way the temperature drops as the sun struggles to peek through the heavy pines that shelter her. Tightly, she draws her wings against her lithe and flexible body, grimacing only slightly as the bristling feathers scratch against the old, brittle bark that tugs and pulls relentlessly at her. At last, she breaks through the grasp and with a gentle toss of her slender neck, her eyes find the open clearing and the rush, crystalline water that moves so freely through the very center of it.

      The wolves (so small now; what has happened to them?) do not raise their hackles, though she can feel their presence around her - the daughter of Elysium stirs their wariness but the familiarity of her dark eyes and golden presence keep their ferocity at bay. A heavy gust of wind presses against her forcefully, but she remains still, rooted to the dry but sifting dirt beneath her. She can feel the light thrumming of her heartbeat, which presses eagerly against the very brim of her rib cage, but she quiets it, allowing her slim legs to carry her along the heavy line of trees that encircle the clearing. Her nostrils flare as she tilts her delicately drawn cheek towards the open sky above, seeking any lingering trace of her father, but alas.

      An agitated grunt emerges from her esophagus as she tucks herself within the brush of a lone thicket, dark eyes peering out as the sun begins to gently fall behind the looming mountainside and its intricate horizon. Her breath falls into a rhythmic pattern as she watches with careful precision as something glints beneath the pale sunlight of waning daylight. Her brow furrows slightly as she focuses her gaze, tilting her cheek to the left to analyze the graceful, albeit youthful form. She is still fragile, petite and with bright, curious eyes - but familiar, so familiar.

      Father has been busy, she muses to herself, though a trace of bitterness remains.

      Carefully, she extracts herself from the thicket and emerges from the shadows, calculating the angle of the wind and following its gentle urgency, hiding her scent from the thin but cool air. Her delicate limbs move with quiet precision as she steps between various fallen twigs, dried leaves left behind from the winter snowfall and the stones that lay tucked away within the wavering grasses. A wry smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she tilts her head slightly to the right, maintaining a fair distance from the young female before allowing her voice, smooth and svelte, to break the silence of evenfall.

      "Good evening, I am Ellyse." She murmurs gently, her pale locks of hair falling in the way of her dark but soulful eyes. "You look so familiar to me," and perhaps, she will be familiar to her too, for their flesh is painted the very same shade of golden sunlight - a youthful reflection of the other. "tell me, girl, who is your father?"

    Ellyse




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