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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


    rolling in the deep; any
    #9
    He keeps her attention as she watches how the light fades momentarily from his eyes, the way his pale body relaxes as he seems detached. Epithet falls quiet as she waits for his reply. Deep blue eyes move from the snowy face of her companion as she looks over their surroundings, the softest call of geese flying overhead. She wishes she could detach at times...to be lost and invisible but something makes her stay.

    When she returns her gaze to Wyrm, he is already looking at her with those serious eyes, as though peering through an eyeglass into the shattered cracks of her soul. His words are received with curiosity, ears pricked prettily as she listens, the soft tingle of his wing tip grazing just so lightly enough that it causes her to shiver.

    "Yes...right." The woman gains her composure after her features furrow and she shakes away the caress, her spine still on fire from where he touched her. In the simplest of efforts, oily black raven's wings unfurl from her spine, slick and shining beneath the sunlight. Epithet only admits to herself that she likes the way the black contrasts the porcelain gray of her skin and the dark stockings that wrap her legs and highlight her lips and lashes.

    She offers Wyrm a small, crooked smirk before the great wings spread out with uncanny ease and she is projecting skyward. The mare knows he will soon follow her but for now she would lead the way if he is able to keep up with her.

    Up in to the clouds, through heavy rain and blinding lightening, she is laughing like the very thunderclaps that deafen her eyes as she glances only occasionally for the stallion. Epi knows he is some man, a stranger in the meadow, but damn it felt good to race the wind and face death amongst the heavens. She finds herself smiling, laughing, the wing gnarling and tangling her pale mane. Would he attempt to overtake her or continue the chase?
    Epithet
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    Messages In This Thread
    rolling in the deep; any - by Epithet - 03-09-2017, 01:07 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Wyrm - 03-10-2017, 05:27 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Epithet - 03-10-2017, 06:03 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Wyrm - 03-10-2017, 07:42 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Epithet - 03-10-2017, 08:19 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Wyrm - 03-13-2017, 01:35 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Epithet - 03-16-2017, 06:49 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Wyrm - 03-18-2017, 07:20 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Epithet - 03-22-2017, 02:24 PM
    RE: rolling in the deep; any - by Wyrm - 03-26-2017, 10:14 PM



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