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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


    [private]  Under the old oak tree [Bowie]
    #1
    sweet as sugar, hard as ice.
    if you hurt me once, i'll kill you twice.

    Beqanna may not stink to any normal horse, but to Hestia every sharp and pungent odor results in the curling of her lip. Her senses are slowly dulling, allowing the humdrum of normal life to take its appropriate back burner to more important things, like, the exploration of the new world. It’s completely different from her old haunts, so big, so empty, possibly it makes her feel a little lonely. Her imagination cannot run wild here. Not in the way it could in the old world. There hasn’t been enough traffic for her to look at a tree and wonder and how many lives its seen pass it by. If it has seen more than her, or if she has seen more than it. They are no longer her equal, and she can’t imagine that these trees or plants understand her any longer. These trees have yet to develop scars, or survive the most brutal of winters, they have not seen magic tear up those around them until they are the only one left to tell the tale.

    Her green eyes shimmer in the light wafting through the leaves. The ground is unyielding, making lying here with the purpose of feeling the earth conform to her body as others have worn in comfortable spots impossible. It is a loss that she doesn’t know quite how to comprehend. Standing on the edge of the meadow she looks in watching others as they bleat, frolic, and generally pay no mind to the lonely mare standing awkwardly on the outside. To her the changed world is still new, she has yet to be used to the differences. She isn’t sure that it’s possible for her to ever completely adjust to the newness. If she is being completely honest, part of her is a little fearful of it all. Where she used to be able to close her eyes and be sure to never trip or go the wrong direction, here she must pause, sniff, and change directions often. Still something seems familiar to her, something still lingers in the air. Yet trying to pin it down only makes the familiar piece evade her. How she wishes that she could grasp and cling to that small piece for comfort.

    A foal slips in his attempt to leap and kick about, and a gasp escapes when the rapid patter of her heart pauses. Everything is so uncertain for her, if Nerine doesn’t accept her back she has nothing, not even her foal. No one knows what happened to her mate, nor was she able to find any trace of her children. If it wasn’t for the love bite she carries on her shoulder she would have thought that the whole affair a delusion of madness setting in. It wouldn’t surprise her if it was the case, as events in her life blur and fall away, jumbling within one another until she isn’t even sure of when she was born. She had seen the world over, and there wasn’t much that she hadn’t experienced. Now? Well now she isn’t sure of her own skin.
    Hestia

    @[Bowie]
    [Image: 345k45w.jpg]
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    #2

    This is Major Tom to Ground Control. I'm stepping through the door and I'm floating in a most peculiar way. And the stars look very different today. For here am I sitting in a tin can. Far above the world, Planet Earth is blue and there's nothing I can do.

    And he had walked and walked and walked. Oh it terribly boring when you walk alone in Beqanna. So many go on babbling about the silliest things (like who is snogging who and who is breaking up). Bowie, as gentlemanly as ever, listens till his ear is bent all black and blue to the little stories. He thinks of Nerine from time to time and the kitty cat queen. He wonders where she had run off to...

    The spring day is as fine as any with a little light drizzle but nothing to shake a fist at. He was as purple as ever (a seemingly rare color these days) and wishing to perhaps find a familiar face. He had not have known many in his time in Beqanna but he did tend to treasure who he had known. It seemed like so many came and went with the seasons. But with changes sometimes the past was woken.

    Across the way is the sheen if a pretty dark coat and a glint of an emerald eye. Welly, welly well!" Bowie exclaims as he nearly steps on the mare. "Hestia, my love, as I live and breathe!" He grins at her (rather dashingly). "It has been too long, dear. How are you?" Bowie asks with a smile as she is nearly too excited to see her! He doesn't care if she is stand-offish and a true Amazon through and through. He thought she was lovely just the same.

    Bowie.



    im so sorry it's short love, i wanted to get this up Smile getting back in his groovey ways.
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    #3
    sweet as sugar, hard as ice.
    if you hurt me once, i'll kill you twice.

    Yes all the dramas of life seem to come out here. This festering meadow of gossip and chaos. How many plots of revenge, death, revolution, and battle had been planned or worse, carried out here? Her own demise had taken place here, her own bitter revenge had come to an end. Still it hadn’t been enough, there is still that hole, the hole that had been, at one point, full almost overflowing. Now it sits empty, gaping, and raw again; and this time she knows it, she can understand exactly what is missing. At least before she didn’t know, had no idea what it was.

    A peppy voice interrupts her sulking, bringing her back to the present and the problems she must face here and now. Ears flick towards the source of the voice, and its one that she recognizes almost immediately. The unmistakable purple, flashy glitter, and wings naturally attracts her eyes making him easy to track as he trots towards her. She doesn’t shy away as he invades her personal space, but her pride refuses to let her lean towards him and accept the touch of another. Instead she lazily swishes her tail towards him to satisfy her need for contact. The rigid stance of uncomfortability slacks, and a small twitch of her lips occurs without her knowledge.

    Something in her softens at his approach, probably the ONLY horse to EVER get away with calling her such foolish titles. Something about him makes it impossible for her to get riled up about it. So, she ignores it, at least, she tries to ignore it; though without fail every time he weasels his way past that chink and she can’t help but enjoy the company. Especially now, I see you haven’t changed a bit love. It may have come out a tad bit snide, but sheesh a ladies gotta keep a reputation. She softens her tone extending her muzzle towards him in greeting before she replies. It’s been a while; and the world seems a colder place since... Why the urge to confess overtakes her, she never knows, it is just something she must to accept about herself around him. Not that she would even dare think of being this open if anyone else she knew was around. But one on one with him? It was dangerous, he could probably talk a rock into becoming water.

    Pursing her lips, she shakes her head; no desire to finish the sentence. When had she felt the world turn cold? What about you? Once again she cloaks the loneliness, listening intently to him. Isobell seemed pleasant and receptive; she had even called her sister. Maybe there is hope for them. Though she doesn’t want to get excited just yet only to have it all dashed to pieces. Green directs itself towards him curiously, an idea turning in her mind. The gears start and she bites her tongue, not yet, her inner voice chides; let it develop, take some time to think on it. Hestia knows its right and lets the thought slip away, focusing once more on the conversation at hand.

    Hestia

    No worries <3
    [Image: 345k45w.jpg]
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