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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


    Lost in the deep end [Holiday Party] // Kali
    #1
    He was back on the other island, and this time it was on purpose. The last visit had been brief, really just long enough to figure out he was in the wrong place, and to discover that he wasn't the only sheltered Ischian in the wrong place. Kharon and Kali, folk with as much saltwater in their blood as he did. It had been a brief meeting, but still they had stuck in his mind when he'd gone home. 

    He'd met his new little sister, Aquaria. She had smelled like sweet milk and a touch of the sea already mingled in her downy coat. She'd giggled in the waves and brushed against him in innocent trust. He loved her already, and couldn't wait until she was big enough to take off island. Adria had been home too, a rare treat anymore. Someday, he would have as many tales to tell as she did. 

    With surer steps than before he walked the path to the shore when the sun felt right. The sound of the tide shifted subtly, letting him know that the water was receding, thinning, pooling, until his narrow walkway reappeared. Excitement bubbled within him as the sounds of rustling palms first faded and then intensified as the Resort rose up under his hooves. It smelled similar to before, still briny and fresh, but with a strange new undercurrent he couldn't quite place. The golden youth had intended to wait and see if anyone came by for a while, but quickly changed his mind in favor of tracking the foreign spoor. 

    It didn't take long before his nose relayed a strange truth. It wasn't a scent he'd been following, but an air current much colder than the surrounding air. The sand underfoot developed a crispness that he'd never experienced before, and the breeze held more bite than he'd known was possible. It was the island born boy's first taste of winter, and he didn't know what to make of it. Almost simultaneous with the new weather came the scents of many horses, and their voices soon followed. What in the world had he stumbled into? 

    With the uncertainty came anxiety. He had come in search of his new friends and had instead found himself on strange ground surrounded by strange horses. He tried to remember which way he had come from and realized he didn't know. Each step made him more lost, and the multitude of voices did nothing to orient him. This had been a mistake, an awful mistake. Why did he think he could manage this? Panic threatened to overtake him, clawed at his throat with icy talons, when a whisp of familiar scent caught him off guard. "Kali?! Kharon? KALIKHARON ESKE OU LA? Mwen pédi, mwen... lost, I'm lost." He reached out cautiously, hoping he wouldn't bump into anyone unfriendly. The trace of scent was getting lost in the flood of new odors, confusing him until he could only freeze in place, hoping to be found. 

    @[Kali]
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    #2
    The mare is draped in velvet black, her hair lay in curls, the tail fanned like a wedding train for a funeral bride. Epithet stands slim and well made, vivid violet eyes observing from a distance. Not long ago she had been a simple cloud floating across the spring sky with the sheer laziness of a savannah lion.

    The sounds of his pleas are nearly heart breaking for the typically calloused mare. The blue stallion was marked in an intricate pattern of gold, handsome and lean, but lost. It takes a few moments for Epithet to understand the plight of the calling man.

    He was blind.

    Her heart lurches slightly, watching in her silence, a veil of fringed hair brushing across her brow at the will of the salt air. "Hello-", her voice is attempted in a soft soprano as to not spook the indigo male, " I do not know who they are but I am Epithet...I noticed you said you were lost." She adds the last bit of her sentence with hesitation as to not frustrate or irritated the man. One dark feathered limb of the black mare edges her closer. She knows she has the power in her to vaporize, grow, shrink, change to whatever may be needed for a defense for she feels nothing of the sort with this pale haired man. Instead she is curious, interested, for there was no judgement capable from his eyes and it was a relief to not be recognized or feared.


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