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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


    dark side of the morning - Rhaegor
    #1
    The sound of her heartbeat is nearly as loud as the pounding of her hooves, and it is not until the white filly is out to sea that the crash of eaves is finally able to drown them both. She stops nearly a mile out to sea, but when she spins around with a loud laugh, there is no one behind her. There, far distant on the shore, is the colorful family member with whom she’d be playing tag. They hadn’t seen her race out to sea, it would seem, and she has won the game – at least for now. Her breathing remains rapid, and she turns around to look back in the direction she’d been running. She’s at least a third of the way to the mainland, Kypria thinks.
     
    She has never been good at judging distances.
     
    Seizing this unexpected opportunity (Mother is at their swimming pond and Father in the strip of water between their island and the big island), the purple-haired fill makes a bolt for freedom.
     
    The day is bright and sunny, and there is a strong breeze blowing toward the mainland. Kypria flares out her glittering fins, and uses them to the advantage of speed as she races – leaping now and again – ahead. She feels like her cousin must when he is flying, and she loses her sense of time entirely. She has left the ocean, she realizes somewhere in the back of her mind, and is running upstream in a wide river. She doesn’t stop until the river widens into an enormous lake. Perched at the edge of still water and running, the lavender and white filly finally slows to a stop.
     
    All around her, great mountains push into the sky. Their slopes all angle toward her – or rather, toward the lake she stands on – and they are covered with trees that are definitely not the palms that she knows. The air here feels different. Light, cooler. Less humid, she remembers her mother’s description of places that are not their tropical home. Kypria has never been a very good student in those lessons. She is more interested in running and climbing and swimming and anything that involves moving. The two year old filly stretches her fins before folding them to her sides.
     
    She takes a step forward, onto the lake, and falls in.
     
    The surface gives without warning, a violation of the water walking that Kypria has always known.
     
    Fortunately, the water here is still slow moving, and shallow enough that she is gasping and upright within seconds, the water reaching just past her chest here at the edge of the lake. She makes her way to the shore slowly and deliberately, shaking away the water. Her lavender mane, once sleek and flowing, now lays clumped and dripping on her white neck. It reveals the sapphire patch of hair on her right side, a jolt of bright color on her otherwise empty hide. She hears the sound of someone coming and glances up, her hazel eyes wide and embarrassed.

    @[Rhaegor]
    #2

    I kept my hope just like i'd hoped to
    then sang to the sea for feelings deep blue

    Despite being nearly one and a half years old, the eldest prince still finds himself taking naps. Certainly not under the council of his parents, nor in the knowledge of his many siblings (Sviko would laugh at him and Abysm would say something scathing, to which Valdis would probably simperingly laugh and Velk would act too good to get involved, and Warlight, well, she would probably roll her eyes or something undramatic), but rather, all on his own. There's just something about having the sun warm your back as you doze in the long grasses, Rhae thinks; something about it indeed.

    It's during one of these naps that a particularly gruesome vision comes to him. It's unusual, too, that it would come while he isn't awake - but it makes sense too, considering that his dam is a dreamweaver. Still, he usually experiences his vision while awake, and this one he almost wishes he would have too.

    A girl, white as snow and lined with the lilac of a setting sun, stands upon the waters of the lake as if this were the most natural thing for her. Her eyes, lit brightly like stars, scan the peaks of the mountains in a way that lends itself to Rhaegor's heart; anyone who could look at his mountains with that much admiration in their eyes is a friend to him.

    The colt twitches as he dozes, half wanting to exit the dream such that he can meet the girl in real life, but half wanting the dream to never end.

    Then, the vision changes. The lilac of her mane takes on an ebony hue, and the sky becomes instantly overcast; in a single step, the angel plummets into the waters, the last of he sees of her being a frantic kick of her legs. Although Rhae watches to see if she comes up for air, she never does - and rain begins to fall.

    Utterly awake now as the vision clouds his judgement of reality, the colt stumbles to his gangling legs and makes instantly for the lakeside, towards the point at which it had seemed to be in his vision. Navigating through the lower hills of the mountain is far from easy when one is barely awake also panicking; when the ground beneath him falls into a little cleft where a stream must once have run, the prince lodges his ankle in the dip and twists it badly, scraping his knee against an unforgiving rock as he yanks it free and continues his mad dash towards the drowning angel.

    Just as he rounds the corner, he sees the girl, examining the mountains as she had in his dream; and though he tries and tries to call out to warn her, no sound escapes him. I'll have to save her, he thinks desperately to himself as sweat gathers and rolls down his sides, foam gathering around his lips and nostrils. Just as she steps forward, he nears the lake; and, determined to be the knight in shining armour who shall save his damsel in distress, Rhae launches himself into the waters.

    Except that they are shallow, not deep.
    Except that she raises herself up right as he reaches her.
    Except that, instead of saving her, he accidentally tackles her right back into the water, flipping awkwardly himself and inhaling a huge lungful of water.
    Except that, instead of being her hero, he resurfaces with water streaming from his nose, and a wide, noiseless mouth gasping for air.

    No one ever said your visions would always be true, Rhaegor. You silly, silly boy.

    Rhaegor


    @[Kypria]
    [Image: rhae]
    #3
    Kypria has just gotten her fins to lie flat against her sides when she sees something from the corner of her eye. Before she can turn, something large and dark is flying toward her, and the white filly is once more plunged into the water. It has been made murky by the flurry of movement, and when the purple-haired filly emerges the second time she is wearing a lily pad between her ears, and its long root trails down her neck.

    "Wha..." The noise is more splutter than speech, and Kypria spits a mouthful of muddy water from her mouth.

    There is an equally wet stranger in front of her, gasping like a fish above water. The white filly recognizes the wide-eye stare and without thinking tells him: "Put your head down. You gotta get all the water outta your throat. Big breath. Deep breath." She repeats the instructions her mother had given her, rephrased in the way she'd understood them. There was never any danger of her drowning, she'd been assured, but it was good to know how to save others.

    Kypria had never understood why her mother had been so adament in her lessons, so firm that knowing how not to drown was vital. For the first time she appreciates this, even as she rids herself of the last of the water that pools in the soft pink of her nose with a sharp sneeze. This flings the lilypad forward and into the water will a dull splat! that might have been funny if Kypria weren't knee deep in gross water and accompanied by a boy who would not be safe in a bathtub.
    #4


    I kept my hope just like i'd hoped tp
    then sang to the sea for feelings deep blue

    Before he can do more than think briefly about putting his head back under the water and taking a DEEP breath, the girl is speaking - no, not speaking, but giving instructions. The commands take a second to register in the princeling's head, but his body automatically obliges her words, head lowering and lungs doing their thing until finally he feels calmer, and less drowned.

    How do you know all that? He wants to ask when he garners the courage to look back up into her eyes; but of course, no amount of wanting on his part will ever bring around words. He has to be very comfortable with his company for that to happen, and as of right now, he doesn't think he'll ever be comfortable with this pretty alabaster creature. He'd practically tried to kill her just now after all - what sort of first impression is that!

    Gulping, he clears his nose with a few short snorts, the loudest he can be in times like these; when the girl sneezes like a bazooka, he startles and totters off balance, nearly reentering the waters - but he hops around until he recenters himself, feeling absolutely stupid. Like, literally, the most foolish he's ever felt in his life.

    Taking a huge inhale, Rhae opens his mouth as if he can speak. But he can't. And then he's gold fishing in front of the pretty water angel, and then he's burning up crimson in shame, and then -

    Then he is gone, hurrying out of the water and stopping only to shake himself off like a wet dog, sparing a last glance to the gorgeous filly before scampering into the mountainside.

    Boys. Useless, all of them.

    Rhaegor


    @[Kypria] Rhae did NOT know how to recover, my apologies :|
    [Image: rhae]




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