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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


    better left unsaid; ledger
    #9
    the incense that sun on prairie offers to sky
    It never occurred to her that it was anything but natural to tuck herself into his side. She had done this a thousand times and more with Spear but if she was honest with herself, there was something a tad bit different about the closeness they were starting to share with one another from the stories told to how she fits right into his strong scarred side as if she was meant to. Spark’s motives were chaste although she could not admit to a strong sisterly sense to them either. It was… natural. That was the best explanation for it that she could come up with, even if it smacked a little of a lie in her own mind.

    Spark feels but the slightest pang of guilt too. Where is Giver in times like this when she thinks that she needs him most? Nowhere to be found, other things beside her on his mind and it leaves her… adrift, and usually she would turn to her fire to drive out all thought of him but instead, she turns her face into the chestnut shoulder and sucks a breath rich with his scent and it steels her, straightens out her spine and restores some semblance of peace to Spark’s world no matter how marginally wrong it was for either of them to think themselves alone when they had lovers out there in the world whose hearts beat for them.

    She does not think herself deserving of the newfound respect that shines in his lone eye. Spark ducks her head beneath it in embarrassment and a hoof scuffs at the dirt as he tells her that she didn’t have to him that but he’s glad she did. It brings a smile to her face and makes her lift her head up to look at him again as he mentions how much they have in common. She laughs a little, “Maybe I do but I’m often assured that love is never easy. Perhaps we only get out of it what we put in and maybe I spent too much time being angry with the way he always looked at me thinking I should have been the one growing fat with his child. I just never understood his looks, nor did I ever ask him to explain them. I was naive, still am sometimes.” she admits, but she senses a change in him as if he prepares for something and she remains tucked up close to his side, sometimes.

    Sometimes, she takes a step or two away from him as if intrinsically recognizing that her heat is too much for the ice-bear in him to bear. But she listens - that is one thing Spark excels at, listening. She hangs on every pause just before the continuation and is careful to keep her expression neutral and her eyes everywhere else but on his face though her heart constricts time and time again for the things he’s had to endure. Suddenly, her story doesn’t seem all that bad compared to his. She is not glad that his tale is as terrible, but rather, her heart bears a new sorrow for that spindle-legged colt made to watch his mother die and knowing he could never tell his father who he was unless he forfeited his life for the telling. Secrets are terrible things, shameful even and her heart goes out to him, offers itself up for the taking - poor naive Spark, she cared too much that it ate her up.

    He becomes quiet but there is no peace in him after the telling - not like there had been for her. His face is distant and it is the distance that holds his eye captive and she feels like there is some restraint there, because he has told her so much and trusted her as he has not trusted another before. She feels a sense of privilege in that, as a friend to him and she takes a step back to lift her head to his back where her teeth begin to chomp in small circles to move the tension out of him. “Oh Ledger,” she sighs between each grasp of his skin in her blunt teeth. What more can she say to that? “We both have that in common, telling our stories when we’ve never told them before.” she says with a little laugh, moving around him until she finds that detestable brand from his time in the beast’s lair and she traces it with her lips, planting a chaste kiss there.

    “You didn’t have to tell me all of that either.”
    Spark can only smile, her cheek against the branded skin.
    Their tales were bringing them closer together, she could not deny the deepening sense of respect and trust she had for him now. Spark knew there was a connection between them but she did not want to poke at it too much. “Ledger…” she murmurs his name but leaves the thought unfinished.
    Spark


    Messages In This Thread
    better left unsaid; ledger - by Spear + Spark - 07-29-2017, 07:27 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Ledger - 07-29-2017, 08:11 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Spear + Spark - 08-28-2017, 07:04 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Ledger - 08-29-2017, 09:53 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Spear + Spark - 09-04-2017, 12:02 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Ledger - 09-06-2017, 12:39 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Spear + Spark - 09-07-2017, 07:42 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Ledger - 09-13-2017, 11:18 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Spear + Spark - 09-19-2017, 06:45 PM
    RE: better left unsaid; ledger - by Ledger - 09-28-2017, 07:12 PM



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