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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]  Vous connaissez mon jeu par coeur [Any]
    #1
    Bardot
    I know what sin is

    Where she had been and what she had been doing was unimportant. She was here now. 

    The autumn chill nipped at her buttermilk toned skin, the fur thickening but not quite a winter coat yet. Slender black legs carry her through the field at a trot, hooves digging into the mulch before she slows to lower her finely dished head to graze. The sky was gray today and she finds herself hoping the sun would soon peek out, to help combat the bite of the weather. Long black strands of her tail flick gently against her hocks as she lifts her head again, golden iris’s scanning the field.

    It was quiet here today. Throngs of horses once surged through the long grasses and waited by the paths in search for a home. Over time it seemed as if the seekers dwindled. She had avoided the Field for a long time but today was different. She was tired of just existing and although she wasn’t sure what she was exactly looking for, this place was usually the best starting point.

    She hadn’t called anywhere in Beqanna home in a long time, not since the Amazons. There’s a longing for the jungle that’s bred deep inside her. She misses the sisterhood, the vines and ferns, the jungle cats. There had been hope once, that she would be the next Khaleesi after her mother. Bardot had admired Tantalize, idolized her. Liz had started the Khaleesi tradition (something the jaguar mare was forever proud of as the legacy seemed to live on long past her rule) and in her short reign accomplished much with the sisters and the jungle. Her childhood had been pleasant, when her parents had still loved each other. It was Bardot that had gotten caught in the middle, when her father raped her mother. Bardot that got caught in the war between the Dale and the Amazons. She hadn’t wanted to choose but the choice had always been obvious. The Amazons were here home, her mother (even at her weakest moment had been so strong) was her world.

    That had been a long time ago, history swamped by the breaking of lands and forgotten when the jungles formed into something new. It hadn’t been the same. And now she was here. A new start to a new chapter.

    They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
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    Vous connaissez mon jeu par coeur [Any] - by Bardot - 04-20-2021, 02:30 PM



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