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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


    Star Chaser | OB | Any
    #1

    In six short months, the painted child has grown strong. Once sloppy movements have become that of a well-oiled machine. Sunken eyes have grown warm and kind, much like his adoptive fathers. The boy had become a mirror of the gray stallion. Kind, respectful, quiet, and strong. He had also become smart. Days of playing upon Sylva's boulders, and amongst the lands twisting trees had taught him things. This was good to eat, and this was not. This horse would play with him, and this one certainly would not. His days often consisted of racing his father through the trees, jumping off and upon boulders (suitable for his height of course) and sleeping amongst autumn colored leaves. He now stood quietly, staring past the invisible line of Sylva's borders. Something within him wanted to wander past them. But something stronger than this urge told him it was dangerous. What lay beyond Sylva was unknown to him, and the unknown was a scary thing to the boy. He was soon to turn one. Something the child thought signified his coming of age. Little did he know he had so much more growing to do. If he were to become anything like his biological parents, he would almost surpass OB in height. But for now, that prospect was unknown to the bay colt. With a whispering snort, he turned, wandering off to find his father.

    Rhysand

    Istanbul x Krigare

    non malum sit infirma

    [Image: rhysandddddsig_by_voltum-dbgx2qw.png]
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    #2
    ORION'S BELT
    It was a cool Autumn evening with a slight breeze to the north.  Winter was coming inevitably.  His neutral hues did nothing to mask him amongst the colors of Sylva.  Even at night.  The sky, of which he could see, looked clear tonight so he meandered towards what little clearing were available of Sylvas forest canopy.  A soft luminous glow lead him.  

    As he approached the light his blue eyes cast upwards to view the radiant night sky.  There they were... There he was.  Each intricately place light told a story and he knew them all.  

    A quiet patter of hooves twisted his ears to the source.  It was a familiar beat he would recognize anywhere.  The colt had grown quickly.  Strong and level headed.  Of curious mind so he wonders what was on it tonight, "My Son, what troubles ye this eve?" The young one has enjoyed many days in Sylva alongside others his age.  He contemplates when they will return to Nerine to further the child's knowledge...
    Warrior by Day, Hunter by Night
    HTML by Call
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    #3

    The gray stallion came quickly into view. He certainly was not hard to spot amongst the autumn leaves. "Hello Papa," rhysand greeted with a small nod. He smiled softly at the stallion before him as he skittered to a stop. The question that came soon after was one the painted boy was used too. For, OB always knew when the child was troubled. "Well... You see." His lips curved downward as he tried to think of how to say this. "When we first came here you said we wouldnt stay forever... How much longer will we be here?" He knew that if and when they left he would miss his 'family' here in the woods, but speration didnt have to be forever. It could simply be for a few months. Or years. But no matter what, Rhysand knew he could never forget the firends he had made here. How could he?

    Rhysand

    Istanbul x Krigare

    non malum sit infirma

    [Image: rhysandddddsig_by_voltum-dbgx2qw.png]
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    #4
    ORION'S BELT
    The ever growing child slows to a stop at his side.  There was something on the boys mind he could see as clear as the stars in the dead of night.  Rhysand speaks and his tone is dim.  Brow raises in concentration as his son speaks.  Once finished he turns his blue eyes to the sky once more.  A silenced moment lingers as he is in thought.  A nod of his large profile in acknowledgement of Rhysands question before he speaks, "We shall leave whenev'r ye feel ye are ready."  Shifting his view to his son he continues, "Are ye ready to move on My Son?" His voice is nothing but inquisitive.  If he felt he was ready we would move on...together.
    Warrior by Day, Hunter by Night
    HTML by Call
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