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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


    do you feel like a young god? ciri, offspring, any
    #1
    if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

    The affection that Ciri gifts back to him widens Amet's smile and pulls him closer. He presses back against her as she kisses the side of his mouth, amber eyes fluttering closed happily at the sound of her lilting laughter. "Yes, to Tephra first, I think," he mumbles mischievously as his maw moves from her scarred neck and shoulder to lower, more private places. He is bold but teasing, making sure that his intentions are clear and purposely leaving them both heated when he finally does recoil from her. The mare's shaky breath makes the young King smirk and he lips roughly at her mane.

    "They will forgive me," he says with laughter in his voice, "And I don't think I care what they think, either, when it's you I get to spend quality time with." Amet smiles at her genuinely before he brings up the party, curious to see how the starry-eyed girl will react. Now that he and Ciri have grown exponentially closer, he can picture going with no one else. The mare's excited squeal draws laughter from Amet and he lowers his head slightly so that he can sink into her enthusiastic kisses.

    She draws back slightly, coaxing a faux frown from the dragon King before she nips at his shoulder and dances away. The Akhal-Teke snorts playfully and bounds after her, running his muzzle suggestively across her rump and then flank as they begin their journey.

    Amet tells Ciri his dreams for Hyaline as they travel. Originally, he tells her, he had meant for their home to be a sanctuary for Beqanna's youth. He hints at his own childhood, at the mother who hadn't cared and the stallion who'd constantly reminded him of that, but most of those details are reserved for another time. He tells her how his dream has evolved, how he wants to house any of those who cannot find a place in Beqanna as long as they have Hyaline's safety in mind. As long as they are willing to guide and nurture the youth that do call Hyaline home.

    He doesn't coax personal information from her if she doesn't want to share it, but the gilded King is waiting with pricked ears and an attentive expression if she does choose to do so. He occasionally frequently reaches for her dark coat, either to simply caress her soft skin or to nip at it playfully but, either way, it is evident that the young stallion can't keep himself from touching her.

    "I'm excited for you to see Tephra, and to meet Offspring," he tells Ciri as the volcano grows in the distance. It's a familiar sight, though one he has not seen in months. Nevertheless, the increase in temperature and the distinct tinge of sulfur in the air draws a smile to Amet's face and he bumps his hip against his companion's as they come to a halt just inside the border.

    "And I'm excited to touch you again," he murmurs into her ear with an insatiable glint in his eyes.
    Amet


    @[Ciri] @[Offspring]
    #2

    Ciri

    His intentions are clear throughout the long trip to Tephra. The way he places strategic kisses, nipping her just there, stoking her flames a little higher. She thinks of giving herself to him along the road but she is no common peasant and instead finds herself stopping to kiss him fully, draw him deep to her only to leave him hanging for more. Two can play this teasing game.

    Between the sexual tension, he speaks to her freely of what’s on his mind. She asks him about Hyaline, what his vision was. She had meant to do so long ago when she had learned that it had been meant to be a children’s sanctuary. Yet things changed, he changed. There were more adults seeking refuge now then children. As a refugee herself, she sees the shift in the kingdom and it seems her thoughts mirror his own.

    There is only a brief moment spoken of his past, of his family. It seems to be hard for him, to cause him pain, so she doesn’t press further. When he is ready he will share, she does not wish to open up Pandora’s box and agitate him with things better left unsaid. In return, she speaks of her childhood. Of the pure white mother who had dotingly loved her despite the absence of an unnamed father. Not knowing she was just one of many King’s bastards that ran rampant in these parts. She speaks of the Dale, the majestic woods and rolling hills of her youth. How something changed, how she had been lost, only to spit out into a new Beqanna.

    She does not go into great detail of her life on the road, only delving into a few tales. Of meeting a child who had been hunted by a wolf, leading her through a dark forest to the safety of her mother. Of an older warrior stallion who had taken her under his wing briefly, teaching her how to fight and protect herself. There time together had been short, she never even knew his name.

    Just as he is protective on his old life, she is wary to speak of her time in the Underneath. She explains the weird darkness of the place, the putrid air that made it hard to breathe, the weird vision to see through the blackness. She speaks of the Leshen and how it had hunted her, shuddering slightly at the thought. Clamming up, unable to speak of it further. One day she would share the whole story of how she came to wash up on Hyaline’s shore. One day.

    Her swirling gaze is shining with brilliant silver strands as they arrive in Tephra. The fumes from the volcano billow in the clouded sky, feeling the heat of the place despite the darkening clouds on the horizon. The sulfur and ash makes her wrinkle her nostrils slightly, preferring the freshness of the lake. She wonders what this Offspring looks like, what kind of hardened people call this place home.

    A tone in his voice makes her find his hungry gaze and she gives a soft breath ”Oh!” as the arousal makes another crashing wave within her. Slowly she moves closer to him, her lips pressed against the scales of his throat. Barely able to contain herself much longer, trembling slightly with her need. ”Must we wait?” She croons, whispered words dripping with seduction. Perhaps they would be left waiting for awhile, what better way to pass the time?

    all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was

    #3

    LONGCLAW

    -I close my eyes, ignore the smoke-

    The smell of heat and sex is evident throughout Beqanna, but these aren’t things Longclaw is interested in. He’s interested in the dark cove of wet earth and heavy comfort, tucked away to the West of here. His own world lies in wait there, (it always will, now) invisible but for the playful flash of fangs here and again. “My favorite haunt.” He thinks, unable to keep the sideways turn of a simpering grin from exposing his own matching canines as he comes across the waiting pair.

    They’re … interesting. He glances mutely between them, (what little space there is to look between) pulls nonchalantly to a halt, and allows for a glimmering hind leg to slacken with apparent comfort. “Diplomats, or did you get lost on the way to the breeding grounds?” He jokes, though the tone is delivered without much enthusiasm.

    [Image: sScEgld.png]




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