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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


    [open]  she was swallowed by the sky { any }
    #1
    The pearl and gold mare preened her wings lazily as she relished in the warm breeze of her home. Whilst the rest of Beqanna was plagued with bitter cold and snow, Aera was here in the everlasting green and warmth of the Gates. She seldom traveled outside of the lush landscape this time of year, especially when the climate made for quite the sparse winter coat. If it weren't for her feathered wings, she would have frozen during her last visit to the meadow. She turned her delicate face to tend to her other wing, nuzzling through the downy soft feathers for any out of place, she was always quite meticulous with her preening. No one wanted unsightly, dull wings. She finished her fussing with a shimmy of her shoulders and snorted softly. What another beautiful day..., she thought to herself with eyes half lidded and a lazy contented smile tugging at the corners of her velveteen lips. Nothing seemed out of place today, it was quiet and peaceful as per usual here. Seldom was there any conflict nowadays and she was more than content with that face. She was more of a lover than a fighter anyway and she wasn't ever keen on sullying her appearance for petty squabbles over territory or partnership. 

    Aera swept into a lofty trot down a grassy flower laden slope to a pretty pond dotted with blooming lily pads that floated atop the glassy surface. She took a moment to gaze into the mirror-like pond and her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight that reflected off the water. She was ever so thankful that this beautiful place was where she called home. No other place she had seen in her long life had come close to the absolutely breathtaking landscape here. She loved the feel of willow tendrils as they caressed her lightly upon passing through their weeping branches, collecting purple blooms and petals in her mane as she brushed along the wisteria, finding zen at the mother tree, and having quiet moments within the beauty of this nature. It was all so wonderful, she only wished she had someone to appreciate it with. She needed not a romantic love, though she would not be opposed if a suitor were to catch her eye...she truly only wished to find herself a true bosom companion.

    a e r a

    would you break even my wings like a swallow?





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    #2
    Ravin ducked beneath a branch, not quite low enough to avoid the soft shower of morning dew that sprinkles his feathered withers. His attention was on the figure ahead, a winged mare standing at the edge of the small pond. The greying stallion could not remember the last time he’d run into someone here, usually quenching his thirst in solitude following a flight. He had seen her coming down the slope from a distance, and known that the path she was on led to the same small pool he was headed toward.

    She would get there first, so Ravin had been less careful as he made his way toward the pond, the soft hiss and swish of grass and sedge heralding the half-stratosian’s arrival.

    “Mind if I join you?” He asks, watching his own footing as he moves down the bank. The mare is not someone he knows, and the denizens of the Gates tend to be easily startled. It’s also rude to stare, so he waits until he is at the water’s edge, head lowered, to look directly at the stranger.

    Though he sometimes acts as a guard of this place, it is only ever against roving wolves or bears that come down from the Unknown North - never against his own kind. If she has run off, startled by his arrival, it will not be the first time a stranger has done the same. Ravin too, has the winged creature’s reaction of flight, but he has learned to control it…mostly.

    @ Aera
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