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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


    a few thousand miles, and an ocean away. || amet, iset, any
    #2
    Iset
    goddamn right
    you should be scared of me
    Aimless wandering just happened to be one of her favorite things to do. Second only to stirring up trouble and sticking her nose deeply into places it didn’t belong.

    This is what she was doing when she first saw the filly; climbing the array of craggy mountain ranges that cupped Hyaline like a bowl and avoiding any and all duties that she may be responsible for as a princess or a queen or a leader or whatever she is. 

    Sometimes she wanted the ability to be a diplomat like Amet; nobody gets angry at him for anything he says. He doesn’t get reprimanded and made to feel like a child. He makes friends and partnerships easily, something that has never been and ability of Iset’s. She was jealous of this, though she would never admit it, especially to her brother. 

    Despite her shallow envy, she hadn’t quite come to grips with the newfound (albeit minor) responsibilities that she had been saddled with, and the mountains were her favorite escape. An escape she treasured, and wanted to stay hers. That is why the moment the other girl comes into view, Iset bristles and all but growls at the sight of her. 

    “You can’t be up here,” she bites out roughly, upset that her sanctuary had been compromised. “This is my place,” she hisses. Approaching the smaller mare with a harsh gleam in her eye. 

    The wind tugs harshly at her mane; it was always worse on the peaks of her hideout, and today was no exception. She blew her forelock impatiently out of the way before returning her focus to the filly before her. 

    She gives the girl a brief once over, sizing her up before opening her mouth to speak again, “What are you doing here? What do you want?” She had been thrown off balance by this stranger in her refuge, and regardless of her wish to adopt the leadership that Amet displayed, she wasn’t about to play nice.



    ooc: Oh my lord it's short and bad but I just got back from a 4 hour workout and this is the best my tiny brain can do! Sorry!


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: a few thousand miles, and an ocean away. || amet, iset, any - by Iset - 06-06-2017, 11:22 PM



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