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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


    [private]  I love my family
    #1

    Do you have any idea how weird it feels to have a home? A place that I actually want to return to? I could probably live out the rest of my life in Ischia. It’s hard not to fall in love with the place that your foals were born and also - the weather is pretty perfect for someone like me. I get chilled pretty easy. Like right now? Sure it’s spring but the sun has gone down and I am feeling chilled. I wouldn’t mind a nice snack to fill my belly because life is always a little less cold after a meal but I’m wary about hunting in such public areas.

    I’m ashamed of the food my body craves, of the gleaming and sharp black teeth in my mouth. I will not risk any of my friends finding me like that.

    Night will provide some cover, but also night means it’s colder, and this is all a long way to say I have no idea what to do with myself. So I’m standing the shore of the river, pouting and almost-distracted by the way the full moon dances on the moving water.

    I wish I was home. Wish I was curled up in my favourite grove with my favourite two foals, carefully curled around them so the sharp edges of my body don’t hurt them.

    Tomorrow night, I promise myself in the growing darkness. Tomorrow night I will be home again.


    artwork by space1993


    @[Stalag] and @[lilian] let's ruin some lives >:]
    Reply
    #2

    I never cared for anyone so much. I was born with a bomb inside my gut.

    There is something that follows.
    She can feel it.
    Like breath hot against the shell of her ear.

    Her heart stutters, weary, in the cavern of her chest as she moves. And she moves because there is some broken thing in her brain that says she’ll be all right if she doesn’t stop. It follows without any real sense of urgency, seemingly content simply to trail her. If she stopped and turned and looked maybe she’d be able to make out its shape in the darkness. But she does not stop. Cannot stop.

    Her breath comes thin and fast and she trips once and then again, catching her toes on gnarled roots that rise up out of the dirt like snares. For a time, she is aware only of the sound of her breathing and the frantic beating of her heart as she picks her way through the forest. She does not have time to be careful. She can feel it inching closer. It is closing in on her.

    Once upon a time, she might have called upon her father’s voice for comfort. She would have imagined the sound of his laughter, would have remembered the way he would have kissed her head and held her close against him. He would have told her there was nothing to worry about. He would always be there to protect her. But she hadn’t allowed herself to think of her father since she’d thought she’d caught sight of him in the meadow.

    Even if she was still in the habit of thinking of her father, it is already too late. Panic has gripped her in a way that she cannot shake. It rattles in the marrow of her bones, wraps a white-knuckled fist around the meat of her heart as she staggers toward the edge of the forest.

    She’s almost there now.
    She can feel the thing nipping at her heels. Or perhaps she’s merely imagining it.

    She draws in one great, gasping breath as she breaks from the cover of the trees and surges out into the open. She sees him, though he is several yards off. There is a flicker of recognition, clouded by her bone-deep fear, before her brain pulls him into sharp focus. Her friend, Velkan.

    Velkan!” she cries – not in happiness or even relief, but in terror. Because she knows that it has almost caught up with her now. Because she cannot tell if he turns toward the sound of her voice before the thing is upon her.

    lilian



    @[Stalag] @[Velkan] im ready
    Reply
    #3

    s t a l a g .



    He’d been suppressing the monster.
    Attempting to, at least.

    He’d spent weeks now clinging to the shreds of his consciousness.  To this point, he’d been able to retain some sense of sanity. But today there was nothing left to hold on to.  Today the hunger had overpowered everything he was.

    Today, the monster rejoiced.
    The monster was free.
    And he was hungry.

    Ravenous, really. That’s all there was. Hunger. There was no conscious mind remaining. No memory. No restraint.  The monster was so tired of being locked away. Tonight he would feast.

    The creature wove through the thick trees.  It had pulled its thick, leathery wings tight against its sides, but a thick forest was not his ideal hunting ground.  He was too hungry to be picky.  Too hungry to go elsewhere.  The distinctive alien clicking escaped him in hungry trills as he searched for the scent of prey, and the clicking grew louder when the scent of flesh and blood filled his nostrils.

    Soon, the air would reek of fear.

    He stalks his prey with little finesse - clumsily making his way through the trees.

    The prey is startled.
    It runs.
    (She runs.)

    And he follows. Desperation fuels him - he does not feel fatigue or the branches of the trees lashing against his armored skin.

    He does not recognize the girl as kin.
    Only prey.
    Only flesh.

    And when he finally sees her - she is with another. Another flesh-eater.  He snarls.  How dare this creature steal his feast.  His knife tail flicks dangerously as he moves closer - undeterred.

    He will not lose his meal.
    Not tonight.

    the beast howls in my veins. 

    image by squirt!! <3  


    @[lilian] @[Velkan]

    FAMILY REUNION!!!
    Reply
    #4

    It takes a moment for my eyes and my brain to catch up with what I am seeing come thundering towards me, fracturing the peaceful night. I recognize the voice, though, and while I’m still on a delay for everything clicking into place I call out a cheerful “Lilian!” overjoyed at the idea of seeing my dear friend again.

    But that’s when it all falls into place and my smile falls away with it.  “Get behind me.” I am moving forward to meet the monster as I say this, eyes not on Lilian but what is on behind her and I can feel myself begin to crumble away as I realize what is happening.

    My family has caught up with me - and not the perfect one waiting for me in Ischia.

    I don’t run, though I won’t deny that there is part of me that wants to. It’s instinct that has me moving forward instead of away, placing myself between Lilian and my brother. I’m about as much of a barrier as I am a meal - which is to say not much. And although I know it is pointless, I cannot help but call out to the creature before we can clash.

    “Stalag! You will not touch her.” My eyes blaze with fire that I do not feel and I am trying very, very hard not to tremble. My older brother may not be as cruel as our mothers (or, at least, not all the time) but he is close. The sight of the wings threatens to chill me to my very core. They are new and they do nothing to temper the monster before me.

    I am in danger of falling apart but it is not for myself that I take a step forward, brandishing first my dark antlers and then my gleaming black teeth as I hiss out a warning in a voice that is not my own - it is the voice of the abomination our mother wished for me to be. I move like them,  like our family, my head low and teeth snarling. Though it does not take much to notice I am outmatched.

    It is not hard to keep focused ahead, because I do not wish to look back to Lilian now. Do not want to see her reaction to my predator’s teeth, do not want to witness the realization that I am as much of a monster as the one that had been chasing her.


    artwork by space1993


    @[lilian]
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