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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


    silver rings and gypsy bells; astray
    #1
    i was born in the arms of imaginary friends,
    free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
    »«


    For the first since she was found in the adoption den, the golden girl leaves the Tundra. A visit would do her soul some good as she never seemed to develop the thick coat of many of the residents. Thin limbs are sure and strong as they pull her svelte form along the edge of the Tundra and the spaces in between till she is in the throng of the Forest.

    Pale blue pools are large as they engulf everything. The foliage is so thick that she giggles when it brushes against a honey hued hip. The platinum shock of her mane is thick and falls across her view for a brief moment...

    brief enough to not even notice another in her path. With a -phfff- of her mouth, blowing the strands away, does her form collide with that of another.

    "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" She sputters rather unladylike. The young mare's features turn apologetically as she looks away from his eye contact, the muscle in her breast practically leaping through her chest in shock and embarrassment.

    »«





    (sorry it's short but i wanted to put something up )

    @[Astray]
    Reply
    #2

    Bright streams of sunlight burst through the thickening foliage overhead, dappling the forest floor with pools of warm golden light. The dusty black stallion is, for the most part, minding his own business. He is walking through the trunks aimlessly, humming rather tunelessly to himself. The warm rays of the sun burnish is rather plain coat a pleasant yellow hue, giving interest to his otherwise bland exterior. Never mind the fact that that much sun could not possibly penetrate the leaves overhead.

    Semantics.

    Besides, it's only really notable if one is actually paying attention. Which, made abundantly clear by her smaller honey-hued form slamming into his, apparently this young mare is not.

    Jerking backwards, Astray stumbles on his own suddenly tangled feet as he tries to take a few steps back. The air leaves his lungs in a whoosh of surprise as his widened silvery eyes drop to catch hers. Or, at least they try to. She seems to be rather studiously avoiding his gaze after her hastily stammered apology.

    A slight smile quirks his lips as he studies her, taking her in from her adorably wayward forelock to her rounded little feet. ”Sorry.” Clearing his throat, he echoes the apology somewhat awkwardly. ”Uh, sorry ‘bout that. Wasn't paying attention.”

    Wait, isn't there supposed to be more? Crap.

    ”I'm Astray, by the way. Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he finishes rather lamely.

    He really needs to work on this whole conversation business.

    who am i supposed to be
    if everything good is taken from me?

    astray



    Please let me apologize for the awkwardness that is Astray :|
    Reply
    #3
    i was born in the arms of imaginary friends,
    free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
    »«


    The mare-child can't help but feel her body burn it's way through three shades of baby pink to a been burning ember of red. Her color shifting sometimes got the best of her. She had never made physical contact before other than rough-housing with her brothers and playing with her father. Maribel can not help but entranced bu the penetrating silver eyes possessed by the ashened black male. Her jaw is a agape as she stammers a bit. His own apology touches her ears and she rips away her blue eyes.

    "Sorry- I'm Maribel...from the Tundra." She allows a soft, nervous laugh to follow through after the completetion of the soft soprano tones. She is the essence of feminine beauty. Soft and gentle, naive. The young mare lifts the long lashes to reaches the male's own. They creept from the deep green of the grass up his limbs, his chest, his neck. Finally the deep pewter pools are matched with her own as a small smile curls the soft edges of her lips.

    "It's nice to meet you...Astray. Where are you from?" The tones are simple and innocent enough. She takes a pace near the young stallion, muzzle pressed towards him as she scents his skin. He reminds her of fresh new fallen snow and the spice of cinnamon. It is delightful to her senses and she tries to hide the intrigue he has over her.

    »«





    (i love his awkwardness! <3<3 )

    @[Astray]
    Reply
    #4

    Untangling his white dipped feet from each other, he offers her a wry, almost apologetic grin. He cannot seem to help the words that just keep spilling from his lips, even if he is perfectly aware that he is babbling.

    Fortunately she doesn't seem to mind. Indeed, she seems rather chagrined. Or so her rapidly changing coat color would seem to indicate. He has never actually seen someone turn red from embarrassment. Actually, he had always thought it a rather odd expression, but seeing her turn from a rather charming shade of pink to red, he suddenly understands the sentiment.

    A chuckle escapes his lips unexpectedly, surprising him as much as it is sure to surprise her. Well, it had been rather funny. He hopes she doesn't take offense. He doesn't want her to leave quite yet.

    Her name sounds like a chime upon her lips, resonating unexpectedly in the warm air. Her home however takes him a bit by surprise. ”The Tundra?” He can't seem to help the way he parrots her statement in surprise. A reflexive wash of golden sunlight ripples across his dark frame at the thought of that frigid northern land. It just sounds so… cold. And she seems the very opposite. ”Really? Don't you get cold up there?”

    Not once did it occur to him how offensive that might sound. Brilliant, my boy. Just brilliant.

    Her next question startles him a second time, though why it should have, he doesn't know. It seems the logical follow up question to such an introduction. Perhaps it's simply because he never really thought of what place he might call home.

    ”Wellllll…” he hedges, unsure what to say. ”Here, I guess?” Shoot, that probably wasn’t supposed to sound like a question. "I mean, I'm not really from anywhere, I don't think."

    Blinking, he gazes at her with those bright silver eyes, doing his best not to look totally pathetic.

    who am i supposed to be
    if everything good is taken from me?

    astray

    Reply
    #5
    Who cares if hell awaits?
    We're having drinks at heaven's gate.

    Maribel finally feels her body temperature regulate itself as the smooth honey hues once against is worn on her skin. The dark stallion seems to garner a smile across her lips as they both stand there looking silly and flustered. "Yes the Tundra." Mari quips brightly and then she notices the sheen of sunlight across his skin and can not help the surprise that absolutely brightens her features further. "Oh my gosh! That was neat!" So restraint or manners may not be her forte'. She just does not seem to understand the logic involved in not blurting things out but she offers up a smile to the stallion.

    His silver eyes are catching her own blues. She had yet seen a horse with pewter irises and it was something that she would not forget. "Here? The forest? Do you ever get lonely?" The inquiry could be perceived as rude but the young mare doesn't always realize the consequences of her actions.

    "How did you do that with your skin?" Mari is referring to the blink of sheen. She was a color changer but the stallion bent the light and this is an absolutely fascinating concept to her. "What other stuff can you do?"















    M A R I B E L


    @[Astray]
    Reply
    #6

    He is a little disappointed when her coat fades from pink back to its original golden tones. He had rather liked the way her skin changed colors. Though, to be quite honest, he finds this color just as lovely. Ok, let’s be real, he’d probably find her just as pretty if she were puke green.

    ”Oh, er. Not as neat as yours. I mean, pink. And red. It’s pretty. Like, really pretty.” He clamps his lips shut then, realizing that he had started to dig himself a hole. A rather embarrassing hole. Poor guy. It’s too bad he’s not naturally smooth and suave. He really could have used it right then.

    Or someone should really just glue his lips together. Because you know he’s never going to be able to keep his mouth shut.

    ”Um. Sometimes. A lot,” he answers, nodding his head slightly. ”I mean, yeah. It gets lonely sometimes. But the Tundra! It sounds… great.” Shoot, he’s flubbing this. But when isn’t he? ”Do you have a lot of friends, or, uh, family? Up there?”

    Yeah, he’s really not making this any better.

    But she continues, much to his relief. She’s just so cute. And apparently, cute=word vomit in Astray’s world. ”Well, I just do, I guess,” he responds, unsure what else to say. ”It’s sunlight, so, yeah.”” Pause. ”I can do this…”

    With that last statement, a bundle of sunny flowers erupts at her feet, blooming in perfect, sunlit accord even as several small, yellow butterflies flutter around her in charming, innocent disarray. He makes it look easy. Of course, were he being totally forthcoming, he would have to admit he’s been practicing these little tricks since he’d been a small boy.

    who am i supposed to be
    if everything good is taken from me?

    astray

    Reply




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