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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


    Any;
    #3
    Azar

    It was a gentle movement that captured her attention, tilting her head toward it and glancing over with green eyes. He approached so quietly, so calmly, that she found she wasn't at all spooked by his entrance like she might have been. She straightened from her inspection of a new plant she hadn't seen before, turned to him to watch curiously. Her delicate wings fluffed up a moment, then flattened again with a little shudder as she settled contentedly in his presence.

    She hadn't been so comfortable with a stranger before, but he was so peaceful.

    Leander, he introduced himself, and she wondered briefly if it might be another name for that gold color over him. His wings were beautiful. He may even be the first with wings that she'd met, and she couldn't help but be a little intrigued. But cautiously. And his eyes, so rich brown and gentle.

    A soft smile tugged at her lips helplessly, so strangely comfortable with him as if he'd been here all along. As if he'd always lived here. "Azar," she offered in return after a pause. Embarrassingly, she'd nearly forgotten her own name and had to think about it. She'd kept to herself for so long, it'd been years since she recited it to anyone. Or spoke to anyone.

    "Is this your home?" she asked, her voice as soft as the breeze through the canopy. Would she be seeing him here more often? 

    She turned and faced him a little more squarely, her shoulders and hips slender despite her age. A late bloomer. Red highlighted strands in her dark hair caught the sunlight and flared brighter, and her forelock was swept across her face. Her eyes were bright and interested, looking him over so openly and unaware that it may be rude or unwelcome. She'd been born in the wild, raised in the wild, and she wasn't aware of common courtesies. Like not to stare.

    tell me what your heart wants, such a simple thing
    my heart is like paper; yours is like a flame

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    Messages In This Thread
    Any; - by Azar - 01-29-2019, 08:27 PM
    RE: Any; - by Leander - 02-08-2019, 12:42 PM
    RE: Any; - by Azar - 02-09-2019, 06:21 PM
    RE: Any; - by Leander - 02-15-2019, 03:11 PM
    RE: Any; - by Azar - 03-02-2019, 12:01 PM



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