• Logout
  • 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]  Where I'm from, the rivers run red (Myrna)
    #2
    The palomino mare follows the familiar route home, choosing the ways easiest for small and tired hooves. By the time they reach the familiar rolling hills that begin to delineate the Gates from the land around it, the little foal is nearly sleepwalking.

    Myrna leads the way to a shallow overhang at the base of one of those hills, carved out by some long extinct ancestor of the little stream that chatters quietly beside them. “It tends to rain overnight in winter,” she explains, gesturing to the offered shelter, “This’ll keep you dry. In the meantime, I need to go find Ravin and Luvi, who I’m sure are driving their grandparents mad by now.”

    The palomino mare looks overhead at the evening sky that is quickly becoming star-spangled, then at the last fading glowing of orange on the western horizon. When she turns back to Cascadia, she offers the other mother a warm smile.

    “We’re usually awake too early, and hanging out in the meadow that’s a little ways downstream.” She wants to reassure Cascadia that she doesn’t intend to lead her to a new place only to abandon her, while also giving the exhausted mare and foal time to rest, and herself time to fetch her children from any trouble they might have entangled themselves in.
    Reply


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: Where I'm from, the rivers run red (Myrna) - by Viszla - 11-16-2024, 09:38 AM



    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)