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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


    never seen a morning rising brighter; wonder
    #1

    because the very thing you're afraid of, it keeps you clean but unclear
    it's the dirt that you're made of and that's nothing to fear

    And, as time is wont to do, it has moved on.

    The twins have grown up over the past several months, their bones lengthening, their steps growing more sure of themselves, and they have grown wild and free. Brigade’s eyes sharpen with each passing day, a mischief light in the grey depths, a recklessness that stirs his blood hot and turns his attention to the border that they are always forbidden from passing. Were it not for the eyes of the wolves, a constant presence in their life when their parents were elsewhere, he is certain that he would have escaped by now.

    Today, he doesn’t try though. 

    Instead, he wakes his sister when the sun has begun to crest, the rays warming Tephra’s already humid summer morning. “Wonder,” his voice is a low hiss, grey eyes bright as he edges to her, his rich dark nose finding her and nudging. “Woooonder,” he says more insistently, lipping at her neck. “Wake UP.” He pushes her with the front of his nose, willing the sleep to fall away from her. “It’s morning. Get up!”

    When she finally does, blinking away the slumber, he urges her to her feet. 

    “Let’s go!” He keeps his voice low, eyes sliding away to where their parents nestle against one another. Not that they could get away with anything. Even now, he can see the glowing eyes of their companions, several rising to their feet, shaking the dust from their coats. He rolls his eyes and looks to his sister, ignoring the faint rumbling in his stomach if it means a few hours of freedom before mother rises.

    His smile turns wicked, grey eyes bright as he takes a few dancing steps away, gesturing for her to follow him. “I bet we can get to the volcano this morning,” he says under his breath. “Wanna try?”

    Usually the wolves didn’t block their path so long as they didn’t try to cross the border.

    Usually.

    Brigade
    i will follow the feeling and sing fever to the form


    @[jenger]
    #2
    Wonder

    She is dreaming of her brother, his whispered hiss reaching her dreams as a soft little smile takes shape in the pale of her bone-white lips. They’re playing a game, playing hide and go seek in the wilds of Tephra, in the thick, near-tropic greenery and rivers of molten, gliding red. She is hiding, tucked away in the shadows beneath some trees, her small body having so easily wormed its way through impossibly dense undergrowth.

    Woooonder. She laughs, feels a branch brush up against her neck. Wake UP.

    She is baffled for an instant, tilting that delicate copper and white head at such a peculiar request just as the world around her melts into peaceful dark and the unmistakable sensation of being headbutted by her brothers nose. She groans, stretches those long white legs, and blinks open a pair of bright eyes the color of warm, green oceans. “I’m up, I’m up,” she murmurs with a yawn, rolling her shoulders so that all the muscles along her spine stretch and sigh.

    If not for his insistent nosiness, she would’ve stayed like that awhile longer, basking in the rising light of an early morning sun, enjoying the heat of the sunshine as it crept up her delicate body. But he is relentless in his exuberance and all too soon she is climbing to her feet, stretching out her sore muscles again, and nosing his cheek with a happy little grin. “Did you even sleep at all?” She’s still smiling, talking so softly against his cheek as she follows him on such thin, graceful legs.

    She is ignoring the wolves as she always does, finding them to be altogether too nosy and too bossy and not nearly friendly enough. “The volcano?” She repeats with a little gasp of surprise, taking a stumble-step and knocking into his shoulder. She flinches, soft and imperceptible, cursing the strange knots beneath her flawless skin that have begun to always ache these days. Sore muscles or something. “I bet the volcano is nice and warm.” She nods, imagining the balmy steam soaking into her sore little body with a dreamy half-lit grin. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.” Still whispering she slinks off beside him, muffling a little snort of laughter as her nose bumps his shoulder, pinching him softly with her teeth just an instant before she bounds off into a frolicking run.

    i am brambles but i am tangled in your love

    #3

    because the very thing you're afraid of, it keeps you clean but unclear
    it's the dirt that you're made of and that’s nothing to fear

    His sister is delicate and fragile and even though he is young, he recognizes it. He recognizes that she is something to be cherished and protected and although his hands will always be a little too rough, a little too quick to violence, they soften for her. He softens for her. She finally rises to her feet, teasing him as she touches his wine-dark cheek, and he just leans into it, huffing softly into the barely-dawn sky.

    “Sleep is boring,” he says under his breath, still careful to not wake his parents as they curl together, his mother’s antlered head resting low. He can feel his own antlers beginning to come in, the soft nubs of them having sprouted from his head. Now, they are just tiny, furred things, but soon they will be marvelous, he thinks. One day, they will rival his mother’s own—sharp and wide and lethal.

    But not today.

    Today, he still clings to youth, however unwilling he is to do it.

    She thinks longer than he does, weighing the options in her mind, and a restlessness spills into his blood, making his legs dance, his body hungering for something other than more of the same. But she eventually agrees, eventually bends to it—reaching out to nip at him before taking off, graceful and lithe. He grins, his smile wide and mischievous and lit with his hunger for everything that rolls out before them.

    He kicks out and then bounds forward, feeling the presence of the wolves out of the corner of his eyes, their shadows sleek and silent as they follow. When he catches up to Wonder, he reaches out to bump her with his shoulder, careful to not hit too hard because he knows that she’s hurt lately. He knows that there is something beneath the surface of her skin that makes him frown with concern when she doesn’t look.

    Today though, today he doesn’t fret. Instead, his wings shift, the motion graceful as they turn from their typical red feathers to something larger, the wings expanding. He pushes off the ground and the wings hold him aloft for a moment before he dips back down, stumbling for a second. They are far enough away from their parents now, that he is louder and his laughter ripples around them as he tries again. He pushes off and his flight stutters and then stabilizes. His wings flapping to maintain control as he zooms forward, hooves barely skimming the surface of the ground as he feels the rush of wind rise up to meet him.

    Brigade
    i will follow the feeling and sing fever to the form
    #4
    Wonder

    “Maybe I like boring.” She is quick to quip back at him, but there is new light blossoming in the bottoms of those beautiful, tropic eyes, a smile she tries to bite back between gentle teeth. “I definitely like sleep, and dreams.” But he is so different than she is. He is so wild and free like the birds that spill in irregular patterns against the dawn sky, and she is like the ripples on the waters surface, pushed whichever way the wind blows, wherever the current may take her.

    She is happy to be led, so maybe it is good that he is happy to lead.
    That they are so different, and yet same. Whole, together.

    She laughs at the mischief in his smile - and it is her favorite smile of his, so reflexive and lopsided, making his eyes bright and twinkling when they flash in her direction. It is a smile that promises fun, promises laughter until her sides hurt with it, adventures that she can fill her dreams with at night. It is a smile that makes her forget it hurts now to run like this, hurts to go on these adventures.

    His nose touches her shoulder, and she grins back at him, lengthening her stride just as pushes ahead to unfurl his beautiful wings. They are enormous, the feathers flat and serrated, ready to carry him into the sky just as soon as he asks them to. The first time he tries though, it is only for a moment before his heels hit the ground again, and it is only the sound of his rumbling laughter that soothes the worry that had flared in her chest for just a moment.

    Then he’s off again, digging in and throwing them wide, and she cheers when the wind catches him this time, pulling him forward across a world he must always feel so trapped by. She is glad for his wings, glad for the freedom they offer him. But she worries that he won’t want to - no, not want, she worries that he’ll feel like he can’t go far, can’t see a world that she can’t come see with him. She’d had two twin nubs appear on her brow like he had, the soft, new promise of antlers like their mother. But nothing had ever appeared on her shoulders, no wings to give her a sky to explore. The wolves would always keep her trapped here, and she would always keep her brother trapped here.

    But right now when it’s just the two of them, okay, fine, just the two of them and pack of wolves slinking through the nearest shadows, it is easy to forget everything but the wild beauty of the boy who can defy gravity, gliding on ahead of her. Easy to just ignore the ache in her delicate body as she digs into the soft ground and lengthens her strides to follow him.

    i am brambles but i am tangled in your love

    #5

    because the very thing you're afraid of, it keeps you clean but unclear
    it's the dirt that you're made of and that’s nothing to fear

    They are opposites and yet they work perfectly together. Smoke and fire, soft and harsh, they collide and balance, each filling in the spaces of the other’s soul. Her words soothe him, ease the ache on the ragged edges of his soul, and he has no way of knowing that she will always have this affect on him. That she will bring out the best in him—will drive him to show off for her but will also remind him to be gentle. To go easy, to remind him that there are other avenues of resolution instead of just teeth and hoof.

    She cheers as he attempts flight, throwing his body further and further forward into the airstreams that carry him. He is proud, prouder than he has ever felt when he hears her cries, and his wings beat down stronger as he grits his teeth, pushing further up. He isn’t able to soar as much as he wants, but he is able to rise further in the air, the mere inches between him and the earth opening up to several feet.

    He lifts his head and bugles, the sound triumphant.

    It is exhausting though, and he isn’t able to maintain it.

    Soon, he dives back down and touches his hooves to the earth, once again stumbling as he fights to make the transition from flight to running smoothly. Once he regains his balance, he throws a wild grin over his shoulder at his sister and then slows to catch his breath. They still have a while to go before they make it all the way to the volcano, although the mountain of it looms over them closer and closer.

    He wheezes, sweat darkening the already rich color of his coat.

    “Do you think the volcano will be hot enough to melt us?” he asks, innocent enough in his curiosity as he looks to her, to his anchor in this wild world. “I’d protect you,” he reassures her quickly, his chest puffing out a little as he walks, still struggling to catch his breath a little. “I’d never let anything hurt you.”

    Brigade
    i will follow the feeling and sing fever to the form




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