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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


    Poke it with a stick - Wolfbane, any
    #2
    I know that we are still in the earliest of days, but there is no use quelling the small seed of hope that has begun to grow. My emotions jumble about, as entangled as the boughs of the acacia I leave behind. Hope is the strongest, but anticipation, excitement, and a touch of fear spin 'round as well, topped off by the nausea that has me retching most mornings.

    The nausea fades by mid-morning - as it always does - and I am left with the day spread out ahead of me. I could find Arthas, I know, and share with him the names that had come to me in my dreams last night, names for our baby. My belly has grown too round to conceal, announcing to the world that my dappled mate and I are expecting a child in the spring. Were my wings unbroken I might have kept the secret longer, but the bones of my right wing had not healed properly, and as I make my way across the sunlit hills it drags beside me, the golden feathers dipped in the rusty dust.

    I hear the call long before I spot the stranger, and I change the course of my journey without hesitation. I hadn't mean to be border patrol this morning (and I will never mean to - I am no warrior), but I can at least be the diplomat that I had told Wolfbane I would be. The path I take is not a well-trod one, but I grew up here in these hills, and move with a familiarity borne from years of experience.

    Slipping between the trees, I pull my wings more closely to myself as I step forward to greet the unfamiliar stallion. I shake the navy mane away from my blue grey eyes, and offer Leilan a friendly smile. Were it not for the scars that cover my shoulders, neck, and withers, turning them from pale cremello to stark white I would be the perfect greeter: my smile is gentle, my posture non-threatening, and I appear genuinely interested in his answer to my question.

    "How can I help you?"


    Messages In This Thread
    Poke it with a stick - Wolfbane, any - by Leilan - 06-29-2018, 02:31 PM
    RE: Poke it with a stick - Wolfbane, any - by Lepis - 06-30-2018, 09:43 AM
    RE: Poke it with a stick - Wolfbane, any - by Rey - 06-30-2018, 03:37 PM
    RE: Poke it with a stick - Wolfbane, any - by Rey - 07-13-2018, 11:15 AM



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