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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


    i want you to remember; any
    #1
    The man is nothing more than a black figure standing tall against the crease of sunlight as it winks over the treetops, burning away any residue of early dew. He grunts softly as it inches it's way to his hooves, breaching the shadow of his skin and assaulting the curl of hairs that grow over his hooves.

    The leather wings (a trademark of his name) are tucked against his spine, heavy and menacing at times, but a welcomed weight nonetheless. His silver eyes watch from the thick dread of his forelock, matted with salt air of Nerine and his reminder of his queen that stay behind to rule as she always did.

    With salt and iron.

    Lior takes a rare occasion to leave the dark sands for lush green meadows. Nostrils expand to gather the scents of others, the sun mercilessly inched over his skin, silver eyes glinting with annoyance at the blasted golden ball. What was he doing here?

    The stallion cocks a leg and his weight is leaned against a tree (it holds despite it's audible creak). He inhales and sighs slowly. He feels as though he is missing something though he has never really missed much during his life. Nayl was busy being the woman, the queen, she was meant to be. Isobell and Castile had grown and ventured on their own to make lives for themselves. He had been an absent father and kicks himself for that but he had guarded them all and loved them even more fiercely despite his few words and rough demeanor. But here and now in the meadow he stands, watching, silent, waiting for something to happen.

    Most days he felt forgotten by the painted queen. She needed him less and less as the children grew and so he stayed gone for longer periods of time. She never called his name but he always wore hers across his heart despite their few encounters as of late. Lior shakes it off with a toss of his head. He forces himself into the present and away from the memories from years ago. He silently hoped Nayl would return to him, restore and give him life once more but the turn of the tides made it all seem more and more bleak. Perhaps it is best he accept that he would never come first in her life so long as she ruled...

    ..perhaps ever.
    I want you to remember
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