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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


    Tender is the fur, dying as you purr;any (use caution)
    #1


    At first Mother didn’t seem to like me very much. I could tell she merely tolerated my presence. Put up with my plainness as I sought her for nourishment and warmth, basic needs to survive.

    I had slipped from her form a mewling mess of bay and white, covered in birth film. After removing my encasement, she scrutinized me with dark eyes. They scanned my pelt with disappointment, looking for something, but I didn’t know what. I was a dull bay with an irregular star, one that closely resembled an ‘x’ on my brow.  At the very least she had cleaned me, though half-assed and rushed. Allowed me to nurse, feeding me when I hungered but I was quick to know when she would have no more. As the weeks passed she became more indifferent to me, voicing how I lacked traits and she had hoped for better.

    When she tired of me, of my closeness or suckling, I would receive a sharp nip or kick, returning the mistreatment with a dejected look. Even my orbs were dull, murky, vapid circuits of black. I was expected to be more like Kirin, or Nicia. Kirin. My brother was not only older and bigger, but he was a fantastic shade of eggplant that was molting into violet as he grew. Not only was he jewel toned, but he sported a powerful set of wings, the same color. I couldn’t even be mad about it, I felt no ill will towards him. Rather, I held a deep sense of admiration to the eldest son. He played with me, talked with me, even when the others wouldn’t.

    That was my existence until the day everything changed. I had been exploring, splashing in the tide pools that dotted the sandy beach, peering into ones nestled in the rocks. Mother wasn’t far, though she didn’t like me much she loved me in her own way, and saw to her duties of making sure I didn’t die. I found a mink, really I hadn’t found it, I stepped on its tail. The creature had been peering into the pools, likely looking for its next meal when my girth found its rudder. It was a dull brown, like myself, though much smaller. Its shriek caught my attention, but the slight form couldn’t budge from my grasp.

    Many would have raised their forearm, released the polecat-like thing from their burden. Not me, I continued to press. Again, again, and again. I lost track how many times I stomped the mammal, pressing my weight into its backside until it snapped. The cries ceased to knife the air with their useless agonized pleading, the breast no longer rose and fell. My dark gaze hadn’t noted Mother’s eyes trained on me, unmoving from her watch spot. I flinched inwardly when I met her cold stare, waiting for some form of punishment I was bound to receive. Instead she had asked me one thing, ‘Why?’

    I had been struck for lying to her before, though she minded not when I lied others. Something steeled itself in me when I found my voice. “I wanted to see it die,”the words without emotion rolling off my tongue.

    She gave me a smile for the first time, approached my slight form and pressed her dial lovingly into my own. It felt good, I felt good, and from then on Mother acted like she was proud of my existence.


    Kult x Killgore
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