• Logout
  • 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


    the sound of branches breaking under your feet; Arthas, anyone
    #1
    The sun has just begun to peak over the eastern horizon. Its watery light, muted by the heavy cloud cover, is still bright enough to wake me. My sleep has been restless since my return from the eastern woods and I wake at the smallest sound or change in my surroundings. This morning it is nothing more startling than sunrise, yet it still takes several long breaths to slow the rapid fire beating of my heart.

    I am safe here, I tell myself, repeating the mantra until I have the fear under control.

    This was a good morning; some days I cannot calm myself at all and the nightfall only makes it worse. The dreams come at night, dark and terrifying. I sleep alone now, secluded in the thicket of eucalyptus and sawgrass where even the boldest of wild creatures dare not venture.  

    The grass - dried and brittled by the long summer - bites at my blue and gold legs, but I pay it no mind. There are wounds far deeper than grass-cuts littered across my soft yellow hide. Most of them are healed and puckered into blue-tinted scars, but a few are still scabbed and pull as I make my way into the more populous areas of Loess.

    I've kept myself away, healing in hiding, but it has been long enough. Avoiding everyone - avoiding Arthas - will do me no good. Though I grimace, I pull my wings as tightly to my sides as I can to squeeze between the trees. My right wing still droops, the bones shattered by my last encounter with the king of Sylva. It did not heal properly, even with my best efforts to lay it flat and keep it still, and I acknowledge it as a reminder of my mistakes. 

    I should not have disobeyed; i should not have failed. 

    My fault.

    Here in Loess, I cannot make amends to Modicum Mortem. To Arthas then, the king who had given me to the ruby-nosed psychopath. There is still a chance to prove myself to him, to show him I have value. I am no longer sure what that value is (my beauty has been scarred and broken, my innocence shared amongst the men of Sylva), but I am certain he will know.

    Shaking my head, I clear the long strands of white and navy mane from my blue-grey eyes. The sun has begin to climb higher in the sky as I made my way to the center of the hilly kingdom, but the light remains dim and watery. A crisp autumn wind blows down from the Hyaline mountains in the north, and a shiver runs down my navy spine.

    ooc: sorry for the sudden away! her IC explanation for absence is that she's been hiding out and recovering since Arthas brought her back from Sylva.




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)