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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


    [open]  I can smell your scent for miles; Any
    #1
    Winds howling...

    Mother doesn’t like the Forest. Not like he does. He is covered in stars like her and yet she knows he does not belong on the cold tundra of the Isle. It is not his place. Whatever blind eye she turns, deep down she knows that there is something… different… about her newborn son. Still… She loves him. This gift from the Dark God placed inside a Dark Star. This beautiful colt with one eye of crimson and the other of silver. His smoky coat velvety and smooth, untouched by life like her own. She longs for the cold arctic nights of the aurora but she will not abandon her child. For now, this is home.

    Where Mother is tonight, he can’t be sure. They are both nocturnal creatures, preferring the shadows of the evening to the brilliance of the sun. It doesn’t bother him, wherever she might be. She always comes back when he is hungry or tired. Besides, other eyes seem to follow him and regardless of her unease with the black feathered friends he has made for himself… At least she knows he is watched over.

    Tonight, he moves silently through the coldest part of the forest. The place where others whisper that monsters lurk. If they do, he is unafraid. Unbothered. All is darkness except for the dazzling tiny stars that hover around him, illuminating his path. An invisible force reaches out within himself, lightly brushing against the minds of the creatures that are still awake. Searching. Looking. Curious. He briefly invades a bat, swooping overhead on its hunt, and enjoys the sensation of seeing through night vision and the clicks of echolocation. He doesn’t linger for long. There is much still to see and discover.

    Eventually the colt skirts the edges of where the forest becomes truly ominous. Rumors of nightmares spread but he is unaware of them. His dreams are those of moss and rotting bark, things that crawl beneath the dirt and rustle in the branches. He is part of it now, those nightmares. There is some sort of stirring coming from the shadows and he turns his small head in its direction. Says nothing, merely watches through penetrating two-toned eyes and waits.

    Carnage x Ciri
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    Messages In This Thread
    I can smell your scent for miles; Any - by Stendarr - 03-27-2022, 12:54 PM



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