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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


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    I've seen monsters chasing dreams; any
    #11
    The ghost-marked stallion departs quickly, though he takes an erratic path and the curiousness of it sets her to skipping and weaving through the flowers. Aodhan's instructions are lost to her mind immediately - she's never had a head for direction - and why anyone would want to leave this place where the flowers bloom bright out of their season is beyond her ability to imagine. Each step stirs pollen and perfume from the eager petals around her.

    If she smells of decay and bone dust, she does not notice. Starbrow smells only the flowers, but they, too, are associated with death, with rebirth, and so perhaps their perfume only strengthens that sense that so perturbs the spotted lizardhorse, mingling with the salt and rot of that unnamed shore. Long-stemmed white flowers are caught up and dragged along in the twists of her tail as she winds through the ancient deerpaths, following them until they take her back 'round to her remaining two companions where she grins wide and draws close again to Aodhan.

    "What a strange lizard you are!" And she presses her nose to his shoulder without hesitation, dark upper lip reaching out to rub against the largest of the golden spots there, "Does it hurt to drop your scales? I can help you find them again!" Surely even in this colorful meadow his glittering, golden scales will stand out.

    "Nikkai!" she calls out to the grulla mare, twisting to look back over her shoulder, "we're going to have a scavenger hunt!"

    She has already forgotten it had ever been mentioned that anyone was being too loud. Her voice is bright and merry, and perhaps it is just a touch louder than necessary, considering she is standing right between them, but the flowers soak it in. There is no shrillness to it, no echo, and the acoustics give a sense of closeness and comfort. It makes sense that others would come to this place to be put at ease. It makes sense, perhaps, that some of the dead returned would come to this quiet place, but not many, it seems. Only a few come seeking comfort, others seek the past.


    Starbrow
    Stars and shadows ain't good to see by


    @[Nikkai]




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