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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


    she's my cherry pie | any
    #1

    You can look boy but don't you touch,
    If you want my love make me give a fuck

    It is very easy to grow bored when you have no responsibilities and Everdeen didn't like to be without entertainment. The gray tobiano would not stand to be made to wait, she craved social interaction. She wants to feel the comfort of having another close. Being an extrovert was harder than it seemed, especially in the winter when most were tucked away in groups.

    She glides effortlessly through the meadow, the pickin's are slim today but she is sure that another soul like hers is lurking too. It is approaching sunset, the temperatures would soon drop below or around freezing. She plays the lost and lonely so well that she convinces herself that it's true. Her commitment to her role in this scene is not doubting. Everdeen is that woman who makes a facebook status about how lonely she is and is in need of company but has 17 unread text messages. She wants that perfect 'something', what that means isn't exactly clear yet. Her big brown eyes are hard to ignore, they pull you in like a puppy but she can cut you down with them just as easily.

    She has thought that perhaps she would find the best friendships in the Amazons, perhaps friendship was the meaning of life but she cannot bear to think that she wouldn't be allowed to have male friends, visitors, etc. Oh, she is so uneducated in this because if she knew; once upon a time, they had men who were there just for reproduction purposes. She doesn't need anything that involved, she just likes the presence of a man to feel secure and to have someone to manipulate with the most basic of tactics.
    e v e r d e e n


    doesn't have to be male but she likes the attention. I'm still unsure if she'll go to the amazons or valley so anyone feel free to sway her Big Grin
    Reply
    #2
    joscelin

    She has become a lurker. It was inevitable, really. After her world had crumbled into pieces and she had been forced to stitch everything back together, it had been difficult (impossible, really) to return to that gregarious girl she had been as a filly. Despite everything, she still seeks out company. On purpose. Perhaps she is a masochist. Or perhaps she is simply lonely.

    Whatever the reason, she finds herself in the meadow, lurking. Her golden eyes scan the open space, passing over the small groups of horses huddled together for warmth. The cold does not bother her as it does others. Even if she did not regularly spend time in the frigid heights of the distant sky, there is little cold that could hold a candle to the shatteringly (literally) cold air of space. The chill of winter is more similar to warm breeze once compared to a cold that could pull apart one’s body.

    As her gaze lands upon the paint mare, her search halts. Piercing eyes fixed upon the woman, she finds herself approaching. She isn’t quite sure what had caused her to decide upon this mare as a companion, only that she knows she wishes to make herself known to this one. Of course, it would be difficult not to notice her. Her coloring is normal enough, a bright red bay fading into pale white points, with a long, relatively untangled white mane and tail. No the uniqueness of her appearance comes not from her coloring, but from the myriad of cracks covering the entirety of her body. The cracks are black, scoring the skin on every part of her body. Occasionally, a flicker of bright white light skitters along the cracks, a small flutter of motion that instantly draws the eye. It is not necessary, but she has found that she rather likes it. She has never claimed not to be a little bit vain, after all. And when one’s body is covered in so many obvious imperfections, one must make do with what they are given.

    Her expression does not change as she glides to a halt before the mare. Her bright golden eyes are fixed upon the mare in a somewhat unnerving fashion as she regards her in blatant frankness. Tipping her head slightly, she speaks to her with the same boldness.

    You look lost. Are you?

    there's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye



    html c insane | pictures c nazo-the-unsolvable.deviantart.com and akharlamov.deviantart.com
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