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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


    You flee my dream come morning [Jah Lilah/Any]
    #11

    Jah-Lilah

    Baby, I don't want to know.


    The mare, upon closer inspection, is in worse shape than Jah-Lilah thought. Her battle with the creature from The Underneath has left her shook and chewed up. Jah sniffs at one of the wounds and makes a face, infection had set in. It explained the girl's lack of appetite, weakness, fever. Jah-Lilah sighs, a deep set frown across her pretty face. She can feel the male watching her, feel his tension. My little firefly isn't pressed about him, she has priorities, and answering the Dragon-King's questions aren't very high on the list right now. She raises up, clearly searching for something. The red wytch illuminates the space around herself, then strides off a few paces towards the muddy banks of the lake.

    Before the girl had finally found sleep, she had requested Jah-Lilah share their separate but similar tales in their trip through The Underneath. Jah-Lilah would, of course, it's who she is. She is a soothsayer, a singer, a weaver of stories. She couldn't help but indulge the young girl. But there would be time for all that soon enough, right now she had more pressing matters to attend to. She seeks out a piece of wide driftwood, and has the good fortune of finding a bit washed up on the edge of the lake. She wades into the darkened water, so careful with her electricity when she's in the water's embrace. Her obedient sparks dance and play overhead, serving dual purposes, allowing her to find what she so urgently needs, and showing the Dragon-King she had not abandoned him and his sweet friend in their time of need. She grabs another plant she needs from the lake bed, and wades back out. She spends more time than she probably should meandering around the valley, picking and choosing what she needs for her project. Once she has everything she requires piled into the driftwood, she kicks a thick mixture of mud and clay on top, then drags everything back to where the Starry Night-mare resides. 

    The mare begins the work of mixing all the ingredients best she can, building a mystery, if you will. While she works, she begins threading the tale of The Underneath to the beautiful gilded stallion. Her words paint pictures, dance and move as if they are alive and breathing themselves. She tells of the choices, where to run and when to fight. She tells of the fear when the beast took hold, then of the triumph when the mare emerged victorious. She tells of the heartbreak and deception of the siren. Then she tells of the gifts they were given. Only three were blessed by the Earth-Mother with new talents, and my flower sought out the other two almost immediately. It delighted her to discover that one of the others was her very own family, her little Fire-Fang. The other was this tiny, mess of a girl, alone and scared. And so here they were. 

    The whole time Jah-Lilah sings to the male, she's moving. She's made a paste and covered Ciri's wounds with it. She's soothed her and took the edge off her pain. She nuzzled and rubbed the sore spots, and before the Dragon-King knows it, she's finished with her wytchcraft and her tale. She grunts and stretches, the time had flown while she sang, as it always did out on the plain. Jah-Lilah felt good. Now it was her turn. She looks at him, jade eyes dancing as a smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth. "What happens to her is on you now, Dragon-King. When the mud dries, you need to get her to the water and rinse her, taking care to be ginger with the new flesh that will bloom. Then, you need to take that paste I've made you," she nods to the goopy concoction sitting on the driftwood. "and rub it on her wounds again, until they've scabbed over and are closed up."

    With that, the copper female eases around to nuzzle the sooty female where her cheek meets her jaw, blowing softly and whispering a goodbye. She moves off a few steps, then halts and peers back around at the young stud. "Dragon-King! If the mare makes it, and she will make it, I pray you'll come and find me. My she-mate, the Wolf-of-the-Water, would probably take interest in the pair of you. She runs with a Pegasus the color of honey, you can't miss them, they're the best looking creatures in Beqanna." She's grinning widely at her last statement, feet already moving again. She's anxious to get back to her home, wherever her lovers may be. She's been gone from them too long anyways, and grows more agitated by the minute. With that she picks up a steady, even lope and makes her way from Hyaline.


    So I begin not to love you.

    stronger than you know




    @[Ciri] @[Amet]
    #12
    He is a King, he should be protecting his lands and his people. Instead he is curled by her side, looking after her. The guilt is wretched and her soul grows restless despite knowing that her body was failing. It should be her looking out for them, not the other way around. A sword for hire, in a way. Since the day she had disappeared from the Dale, there had been no other path. The swirling strands of her eyes seem sluggish and slow in their swirling patterns and a ghost of a smile finds her lips as she sees the way he visibly sags, as if she could read his mind. No, this could not be her ending. How cruel and unfair that would be after fighting death itself. Escaping by the skin of her teeth.

    The gold of his scales glitter beneath the pale light and she tries to focus on them even as her sight blurs. It’s as if she can see faces in the shine of each scale and she leans slightly closer to him, peering at the gilded surface of his cheek with fascination. The stars peek dimly from behind the clouds, a soft voice in her fevered state. A white mare who tenderly whispers words to her that she can’t hear. A magician with a kind face. A king that was lost. An unfamiliar face, dark and heavy, but she’s flooded with familiarity. A name she’s never known ringing like a bell in her mind. ”Atrox?” A confused and thick word that falls with weight from her tongue.

    It’s too much, it makes her head spin. She closes her eyes to block out the images that press against her retinas, her forehead coming to rest against the crook of his neck. His voice sounds far away, faint, with a promise she can no longer make out. All the while Jah-Lilah was working her particular type of magic, the effect of her lullaby taking hold.

    Half awake, half asleep. Each moment in the woman’s story relived in her dreams. The choice to go to the woods. The Leshen, huge and impenetrable in a suffocating forest. It’s twisted roots reaching for her, the gleaming white of the skull as it came for her. Running, can’t breath. The ravens, so many, ripping her apart with cruel beaks and sharp talons. The metallic stench of blood, copper on her tongue, as she crunched delicate bird bones between blunt teeth. The feel of feathers tickling the roof of her mouth. Sore, broken. Dragging towards the lake, this lake she dozes at now. Herself, young. The need to see. Betrayed, the siren awake and ugly. Long claws raking against her shoulder, she moans softly as the pain renews in her flesh.

    The fire mare had brushed the mud against the wound and as quickly as the burning had started, it began to fade. Her dark muscles slowly unclenching as the pain reluctantly releases the firm hold it had. It no longer burns but merely stings, cooled slightly. The fever is less forgiving. She feels the warmth of the dreamweaver’s breath on her cheek, her goodbye. Her lashes flutter, wanting to reach out for her again. The stars brightening slightly above, acknowledging what the mare had done for one of their own. Their stories firmly aligned now, knowing in her heart that she needed to find her again.

    Then suddenly the air is still as her electricity fades with her retreating figure. Her labored breath seems loud in her ears, suddenly aware of how close she is to him, how she can feel the rise and fall of his side against hers. Fighting between the fog, forcing the slow swirls to make him out. ”Beautiful…” She mutters to herself, as the moonlight catches him again.
    Ciri


    @[Amet] @[Jah-Lilah]




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