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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


    [private]  don't let those butterflies out - velkan
    #2

    Have I figured out what I’m doing here in Beqanna yet? Well, kind of. What I’m doing is meeting a bunch of really nice and kind of strange horses, usually mares, which I guess is weird. Chronos was a boy, but he was little. Are there any fully grown stallions around? There must be. Sometimes I see a mare that’s looking like she’s going to burst with a baby so there must be at least some guy out there to help make the next generation.

    Who is this Beqanna Stallion and why haven’t I come across him yet?

    Anyway, not that I’m looking but I think the next friend I’m about to make is another mare which just sort of feeds this conspiracy I’m building about how there’s no (or, perhaps, just one) other stallions in Beqanna. But that gets pushed to the back of my mind because I watch in horror as this chestnut mare takes a drink out of what looks like a very, very, very, VERY cold river.

    I sort of wish that I was standing on the opposite side of the river as her – I think it would be very poetic and just a nice little way to set up the scene. As it is, however, we’re on the same side and for reasons, I’m not interested in crossing a very chilly looking river just to make a point. So instead I approach her in a very boring way, which is I just sort of walk up to her. She had been drinking from the river and just the idea of that sent shivers running down my spine – which, since it’s basically visible, the small shiver is visible as it shakes my body for a second.

    “You’re a lot braver than I am.” I point out as I come to stop a few strides down river from her, completely without irony. Which, as you’ll come to see, is just how I talk. I’m not one to tease, unless it is very light-hearted, and there’s absolutely a tone of reverence in my voice.

    I look from the chestnut mare to the river by my hooves, but I’m very carefully making sure that my charcoal-black hooves are staying quite nice and dry. “I wouldn’t even step into a cold river if someone triple thousand double dog dared me to, never mind drink from it.”



    artwork by space1993


    @[lilliana]
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    RE: don't let those butterflies out - velkan - by Velkan - 08-19-2019, 03:55 PM



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