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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]  young spitfires
    #1

    It does not take Mazikeen long in her young life to begin testing boundaries - or, rather, slipping past them. As attentive as Agetta tries to be, the young filly quickly learned how to take her mother’s distracted moods and turn them to her advantage. Without malice, just to see whether she could. And once she figured out that she could, she began nudging ever so gently further and further out.

    There was a great big world out there, and the fire-eyed filly wanted to see it all.

    Under a warm spring sun, Mazikeen dips away from her mother and drifts towards the common lands. Still young, she decides she’s not quite ready to lose herself in the meadow (perhaps tomorrow) but instead opts for a trial run of this whole freedom thing in the playground.

    She soon begins to feel a tickle along her spine, a growing sense of discomfort, the deeper she wanders into the place. There is life here, there must be, but it is near-silent except for the constant noise of nature. A rustling in the old trees that stand like sentries or the call of birds is not enough to settle the growing sense of unease in her young mind.

    Mazikeen doesn’t yet know that it’s the lack of voices, the lack of true noise, that she can’t stand. The silence chokes her, just like all the quiet nights with her mother - suffocating her with all the secrets left unsaid but heavy in the air and attitudes.

    She’s not expecting it when she does hear a voice and to her great shame she spooks - but not just spooks. She spooks and shifts, one moment a startled filly and the next an even more startled young hawk who flaps her wings desperately for a few beats before landing ungracefully on the soft grass.

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    #2

    Being alive is exhilarating!

    Barrow is trembling with excitement, his legs prancing underneath of him in anticipation.  Momma kisses his brow, tells him to be good, and points in the direction of the playground.  He’s been waiting for this moment for days.  Being with momma is great and all, but there is so much more to see away from her.  She had promised him that after three moonrises he could venture off on his own in the safety of the playground.  Now that the time has come, he bursts forward with all the unbridled energy of the young.  There is no stopping him as he races his shadow to the treeline.  He’s almost there, almost through to the other side, when he remembers – he’s forgotten to tell Momma goodbye. 

    The colt comes to a shuddering halt and reverses, back to the welcoming sight and side of his dam.  He reaches up and presses a gentle kiss on her red cheek, her strawberry mane tickling his face, before racing into the woods and beyond.
          
    Barrow rejoices at his newfound freedom.  He kicks his heels up as he goes, warmed by the mild spring sunlight that dapples both him and the forest floor. There are new sights to see and smells to smell and he wants to experience everything.  If only he could slow his restless feet! They seem to have a mind of their own, his feet, and they carry him into the heart of the children’s sanctuary in no time at all.

    He immediately sees that he is not alone.  “Hello there!”  He calls out before he has even assessed the situation; being obnoxiously friendly and unafraid is deeply engrained in his family’s DNA, after all.  It is a girl his age, monochrome in color, and perhaps out for her first adventure like he is.  The boy is already moving towards her with his bottlebrush tail raised in excitement when the girl disappears.

    Or rather reappears as an ungainly hawk. It is enough of a show to give Barrow pause.  He tilts his red head in curiosity but draws forward after a beat or two.  Concern replaces his curiosity and wrinkles his brow as he looks down at the raptor.  “Pardon, but I don’t think you know how to fly yet?  Best stay on the ground.”



    BARROW





    @[Mazikeen]
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    #3

    The voice that had resulted in this embarrassing change comes over, offering a little bit of friendly advice. He looks giant to her from where she is. Small and a little fluffy, the young hawk stares up with vibrant orange eyes at the colt - wishing very much that she was something bigger so that she could look down on him instead. She was getting very tired of being small, and not just in this form.

    Of being a foal, of being reliant on others.

    But that’s a tangent for another time. She's not looking to escape her present circumstances by any means, though her first words might suggest otherwise.

    “What if I don’t want to stay on the ground?” The question is rhetorical and there’s an edge to her voice but it doesn’t quite reach the point of anger. She’s embarrassed and flustered and more than a little confused but she’s also curious - about her new-found ability to shift and this stranger. There is excitement about meeting someone her own age, someone she is not related to (well, she assumes anyway). She does an experimental flutter, but even as a bird she’s young and therefore lacks adult feathering - there’s even little sprouts of down here and there.

    Those orange eyes blink as she looks back up at the colt, feeling a little less ruffled. Her hawk head tilts to the side when she speaks again. “You wouldn’t know how I can turn back into a horse now, would you?”



    @[Barrow] omg so excited you replied <33
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    #4

    * * * * * * * * * * *

    He wouldn’t dare say it to her after he realizes she is not exactly pleased with her current predicament, but the little bird is rather cute.  She’s all puffy and down-feathery instead of the menace and sharpness of an adult hawk.  Well, that’s not exactly true.  Her orange eyes are pretty sharp as they peer up at him defiantly.  Barrow gulps under her stare.  

    “Ah, well, you see – “ he starts awkwardly, breaking off the stare down and looking frantically around for any branch or stone that might save her from the ground.  Finding none, he is afraid to meet her gaze again.  Momma had told him he would make friends easily.  She had filled his head with visions of other happy foals delighted by his companionship and conversation.  She had told him he had a good heart and a quick tongue, surely it would be a walk in the meadow to make connections with others?  And here he is messing it up already!

    Eager to win her potential friendship back, the red colt thinks of an idea.  Well, not an idea, exactly, but something better than nothing. He is so excited to tell her, he wags his tail enthusiastically. “What if it’s a secret word?  Or what if you need a lock of your own hair?”  He thinks of other possibilities, spewing out the thoughts as they occur to him.  “Maybe you have to blink three times?  Or jump in place?  Or maybe there’s a magic mark on you that you have to touch.”  At this, Barrow leans down very close to the hawk-filly, his blue eyes wide, as if examining her for such a mark.

    He runs out of ideas and decides to stay at her level, at least until they solve the mystery.  He doesn’t want her to feel all alone down there.  The colt plops down on his side, waiting to hear if any of his thoughts have any merit from the girl. After a moment, he wonders out loud, “wait, what if you just remember your real self?  What if you imagine yourself as yourself again?”

    barrow

    photo by: jtbean



    @[Mazikeen] I'm excited to write with you again! been too long <3
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    #5

    Mazikeen freezes as she listens to the list of suggestions that come tumbling out of the colt’s mouth - she’s not even annoyed she’s just amazed. How did he come up with all those ideas! Some of the fire leeches from her gaze, replaced by amazement. She doesn’t even move or flinch when he gets a little closer - possibly checking to see whether there was one such magic mark on her. Not being one that minded her space being invaded, Maze gets over her shock quickly and even lifted her downy wings and turned/hopped dutifully around so he could check. She is fairly sure she would have noticed a magical markings but perhaps it only showed up when she was not herself.

    That option seemed to have resulted in no luck, however. She was still a bird. She gave an experimental jump to try out one of the other while the colt lay down - and she appreciated that he was now on her level. Mazikeen was just wondering whether she could get him to sneeze by pulling on one of the hairs near his nose when he spoke again with another burst of inspiration.

    She wondered what it was like to be so creative, to have so many ideas for just one problem.

    She’s not standing very far from him when she nods. “Alright let’s try that one.” She is undaunted by the previous lack of success. Those orange eyes close and she thinks about herself, her real self. With her dark hooves and her small black-tipped tail, and the muzzle she would bump against her mother to get her attention. In something of flash, she feels it happen - and emits a small shout of surprise as she grows suddenly into a foal, flopping ungracefully over and, should he not think to move fast enough, partially right on top of her new friend.

    Now she laughs, loud and just as ungraceful as her actions a moment ago but full of real joy all the same. “Maybe you’re not so crazy after all.” The now-filly states as she shifts away but she doesn’t bother to stand up properly. She just moves only far enough that there is a bit of space between them and stays flopped over. She feels a little tired now - changing shape was exhausting but she still twists her head a little comically to be able to look at the colt.

    “Do you know a lot about magic then?”



    @[Barrow]
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    #6

    * * * * * * * * * * *

    Solving the puzzle of the girl’s predicament is the most fun he’s ever had!

    He finds new pleasure in thinking and executing, in coming up with solutions to the issue at hoof.  Ideas have always come to him easily, though he’s never had much of an outlet with which to try them out on.  One day, when he’s older and bigger, he believes he will think of great things – ways to help everyone in their world live better and be happier.

    He’s never had a friend, either, but he warms to it even faster than he does to thinking.  Charmed by her gracious efforts to give his ideas a go, the colt’s smile grows the longer the time they spend together.  Even if his ideas don’t work (as they all seem destined to fail at first), the comradery is reward enough.  Being with only his mother for the vast majority of his young life has left him craving the companionship of those closer in age to him. 

    After he flops down on the ground and tells her his latest plan, he’s suddenly worried that it will work and she will leave him.  Perhaps he shouldn’t have shared his thoughts so readily?  Maybe he should have drawn out the suspense more, left her interest dangling on the next scheme swimming around his head?  She closes her orange eyes and it takes all the restraint in his little body not to ask her to stop, because he is sure this effort will work.  He is also sure that she will have other friends – better friends – waiting for her when she is herself again.

    In a breath (and her shout) the hawk becomes a filly.  Barrow feels a clench in his stomach, but he’s just as delighted as she that they had found the answer.  She nearly topples him over in her sudden transformation, and he braces his shoulder to catch her weight as best he can while sharing her laughter.  It carries on when he realizes she isn’t leaving.  The girl stays just beside him, seemingly fatigued from her time as a bird.  “Crazy?  I think the word you’re looking for is genius.” 

    She twists her head to look at him and he’s still grinning until her question catches him off guard.  He screws up his face in concentration and presses his lips in a taut line.  Small snowflakes start falling down from a space just above his head, catching in his lashes and whiskers.  He blows them over to Mazikeen’s outstretched face with a cold breath.  “It’s not much.  Momma says it will grow with me, though.”  Certainly not as cool as her trick had been.  Another thought occurs to him then and he brightens again.  “Maybe I’ll be able to make you an ice-tree to perch in someday.”

    barrow

    photo by: jtbean



    @[Mazikeen] sorry for the wait! We can stop here and do another somewhere if you want since they are older now?
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