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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


    There was a birch tree in the field; Kristinpony
    #1


    It never got easier, no matter how many times he crossed the border.  As soon as the first thick-padded paw stepped across Taiga’s boundary line, the mists descended into Siberian’s eyes until there was naught but blackness before him.  In his thankfully-rare bitter moments, he can almost believe himself the prisoner of the piney kingdom, instead of one of its protectors.  It had been a fair bargain, struck with the mare who had formerly ruled it alongside Ruan.  And without her offer, he would not even have a working sense of sight no matter where he found himself.  He understands all of this, knows he is far luckier than some, especially with the gift of shapeshifting that protected him during his times of blindness.  There were still times, however, that he recalled the days before whatever curse had struck him to take his eyesight away.  Times that he galloped and leaped and even salmon-fished without a care as to what lay ahead in his future and the changes that would come.  Frankly, he is finding himself surprised at how gloomy his thoughts were today—there had been nothing that happened to cause it.  Just last evening he had been laughing as hard as he had for some time, as he and Azar romped and kicked their way through the piles of leaves that lay underhoof.  The little Pegasus had popped out of one rather deep leaf pile that she had hidden in while his back was turned, trying to act fearsome and scare her papa.  

    He had pretended to be frightened, until the closer look had revealed a leaf stuck to her tiny forelock in a rather comical fashion.  Chuckling, he had carefully removed it with his teeth and let it flutter back down to join its colorful brethren.  Their game had been so enjoyable, the Budyonny isn’t sure why the good feelings weren’t lingering with him this morning.  After Azar had woken up, had her breakfast, and promptly scampered off to play with other Taiga younglings, he had decided that perhaps a walk might clear his head.  So off he ventured, knowing she’d be safe while he was gone.  The bear-shifter’s rambling path followed along after familiar smells until he stands again in the Forest, quietly standing to one side and listening to passersby conversations.  It was a much-needed distraction, doing nothing really useful as opposed to his everyday duties.  But then, his nose twitches involuntarily.  There’s a scent, two in fact, that he remembers from years ago; two foals that he had met.  If he remembered correctly, they were twins in fact.  He casts his massive head back and forth, listening for the sound of the voices of the adults they must be by now.

    Siberian

    The sexy grizzly boy of Beqanna

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    #2
    It seems like it has been forever since they’ve been together.
    Forever though, seems both short and long to them.

    In a rare moment that found him needing not to look over either his beloved or their newborn twins, he looked for and found his sister, also unoccupied for the moment. That was rare for either of them nowadays. Spear sequestered himself with Antonia and the twins while Spark trailed after her own beloved, half lost in melancholic thought and half in bitter anger but somehow, always loving and forgiving in the same breath that she cursed Giver’s name and his beautiful stars. Somehow, they found each other and that bond of twinship called out to them and brought them together in a fit of snorts and gentle nips.

    Of course, not only had Spark found her fire mimicry but Spear himself had acquired fire magic and the fire in their shared blood spoke to each other, drawing it forth until each of them burst in flames and chased one another laughing from Tephra’s sulfuric shores. They splashed through channels of seawater, still aflame, their bodies throwing off smoke as the sea hissed and withdrew from the fiery pair. Spark was always faster, more fleeter of foot than Spear because he was bigger and heavier muscled than she was. He always drew close enough to rake his teeth down her pale flank and sometimes, he could pace her neck and neck but it left him huffing and out of breath as she pulled ahead with a laughing smile.

    Spear and Spark burnt themselves out when they hit the forest, knowing their bodies could throw sparks and singe the dry tinder underfoot. Last thing either of them needed was to cause a forest fire because they couldn’t contain themselves and their fire traits. “That was some much needed fun, brother.” Spark calls to Spear, who rounds on her, still panting as their mismatched gazes meet and both of them duck their heads beneath a low hanging bough. “Much needed,” Spear echoes, not out of shape but never a match for his quick-footed sister as he nips at her neck. “I missed moments like this.” he murmurs, and she looks back at him as she leads him through the trees until the forest starts to thin out and there are wider spaces here where they can scent other horses. One scent in particular makes Spark draw up short, Spear nearly running into her since he hadn’t been paying much attention as his mind had been on memories of them as foals and chasing one another like they had.

    She recognizes it as bear and horse, and it tugs a memory loose from her brain. “Do you remember…?” she trails off, looking at Spear whose nostrils are fluttering as he sucks air in and picks up on the same scent that she had. “The bear we snuggled up to,” he finishes for her, a smile haunting his lips. Their black and red eyes cast about for a bear but find only horses, and so they set about to tracking him through scent alone since they’d never seen him in anything but his bear form though it had smelled a little horsey back then, like he’d been something else from time to time. (He never attempted to eat them, so they knew he did not smell that way from killing or scavenging from bodies of horses.) “That might be him…” she gestures with her little nose towards a big stallion that seems to be casting his own head back and forth, eyes blind but ears more attentive than usual.

    “I think so,” he agrees as the pair of them station themselves in front of the massive stallion, almost nose to nose and they suck in the smell of bear and horse confirming their guess. “Been a long time…” they say in that strange unison of theirs.

    Spear & Spark
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