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    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


    [mature]  (a little gory) let's begin feeding the sickness; any
    #3
    The senses in this form were so different, sight almost overwhelmingly vibrant, scent so very odd, working primarily through the nose, not so accentuated by taste. His tongue seemed virtually useless in comparison, flicking out to taste the air and learning next to nothing. His nose worked well enough, and those ears were bizarre, external and swiveling with the twitch of minute muscles in his head. That was a bit of a trip, focusing sound by rotating his ears instead of turning his head.

    He was so absorbed in learning the way his body perceived the world now that he missed the taste of serpent in the air--scent. Right, the scent. Perhaps that explained the odd sensation in his chest, the restless way his body wanted to dance to the side, flick ears back, snort, eyes sharpen and seek out danger. Of course, he figured this all out after the snake hissed, zeroing in on him with rage and warning in reptilian eyes. His body wanted to shy away, or strike out at the tiny threat, but his own eyes flashed reptilian and focused intently, mouth shifting almost imperceptibly, teeth sharpening at the sight of a potentially delicious little treat.

    Ah, but then the snake writhed and warped and twisted into something still so strange to his eyes, the same shape of the four-legged beast he’d devoured, and so recently become. His gaze sharpened and he watched, fascinated, as she settled into her equine skin. Intriguing. Her transformation had looked quite deliberate; perhaps he could learn to do the same? He damn well hoped so, at least. Being a prey-beast was sure to get old.

    It took a moment for her words to filter through his equine brain and translate themselves, the first speech he’d heard in his life. But when they did, the words coaxed a sharp-edged grin to his face and he took a step closer, breathing in her scent. “Mmm, right you are. Snakes make such tasty little snacks.” He clicked his teeth with a little huff of laughter and then asked, “How did you do that? Change your shape on purpose?”
    @[Kerrigan]


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    RE: (a little gory) let's begin feeding the sickness; any - by End - 09-10-2018, 11:37 AM



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