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  • Beqanna

    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


    you're like a wildfire { Any }
    #1


    remember you could weep fire
    Out of all the places she has ever been, the meadow was by far her favorite part of Beqanna. She loved it's never changing landscapes, greenery rolling gently as far as the eye could see. The masses that came here in neutrality and sharing pleasant conversation. It was beautiful. A soft smile pulls pink lips, her carnelian hued eyes seeming to smile as well. Valera walks the well worn paths among the tall grasses of the meadow, no mission or motive today. Just the search for some companionship while on a break from her journey across Beqanna. Passing small bands of equines, and the occasional tree, Valera finally settles in by an impressive old pine. She stands quietly, her long wavy tresses toss lightly in the autumn breeze. 

    She craved conversation, being alone for so long can leave even the happiest with a bit of loneliness. Honestly, she wouldn't mind having someone to accompany her on her travels. She was a bit of a nomad. Once she was old enough she said goodbye to her mother, Nayl, and the rest of her family to explore the surrounding lands to Nerine. The lovely golden and white painted mare was quickly taken by the excitement and joy of exploration, that she then made it her goal to explore the entirety of Beqanna. And that's exactly what she had set out to do, until the homesickness of loneliness set in. It was time for a break, and she did see so much in her travels. Eventually she could see her self finding someone, settling down to start a family. Having been a part of a very loving and large family, as well as being part of one of the most well known families in Beqanna, it was in her blood to grow into a successful mare. 

    She didn't know what her success would be, but she knew she was bound for great things. She wanted so much to be like her mother, Nayl, and her sister Isobell. Strong, independent women with the ability to take power and lead with grace. She only hoped she could be like them, but only time would tell. But, for now, she is here alone, her future uncertain. She reached her lovely face around to tend to an itch on the underside of her wing. Eventually someone would bump into her, she hoped.
    valera
    Nayl x Lior
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    #2
    Pteron keeps to the shoreline, his wings angled to catch the billowing wind off the sea. This is the fastest route to the common lands: the seashore and then the river, and it is one that he has taken many times. Unaffected by the Plague, the young stallion has scoured the common lands while his fellow Loessians have been unable to carry out the task. He enjoys it – enjoys the travel as well – and expects today to be no different.

    He tries to keep the kingdom’s needs foremost in his mind, but now and then he gives into less-than-logical reasoning. Horses in the meadow don’t tend to be looking for homes, the recruiter part of his says. But the palomino mare is very pretty, and today that is slightly more important. Tomorrow he’ll try to find a recruit, Pteron tells himself.

    Having passed her already on his route down the river, Pteron banks wide and comes to rest on a hillock not to far from the sentry pine. He folds his pale wings against his sides as he draws closer, nodding his head in greeting as he does. His wind-knotted mane is tossed from his olive eyes, and with a bright smile he says: ”Hello. I’m Pteron.”

    Something about her strikes a chord in his memory. He does’nt know her – that he is sure of – but she seems somehow familiar. Her golden coat keeps him from making the connection with the other orange-eyed creatures he knows, barely skin deep as it is. The color and the feathered wings – so different from her kin’s hard scales. Her pied coat doesn’t smell of any land Pteron knows, and he is immediately intrigued by the stories she might have.

    “Where are you from?” Asks the youth, answering it for himself shortly after. “I’m from Loess.”

    @[Valera]
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