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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


    i know the rules, the weaker trees bend; tamlin
    #3
    Winslow

    She cannot recall another time in her life when she felt nearly as baffled as she does now. Especially when that daft, hoofed beast starts speaking to the wolves she’s been trying to adopt herself into. Thorn the Third? Is he serious? She just stares at him, mouth slightly agape and eyes blank - and maybe it’ll just seem like some really awkward panting, but she snaps her jaws shut when she realizes anyway.

    Her eyes wander, a shade of blue so pale they almost look clear, like sun-faded aquamarine stones who let all their color drain away. She is so busy reading the body language of the other wolves around her who genuinely seem to appreciate this boy and his friendly chatter, that she does not notice the moment his attention shifts onto her until the hairs along her spine raise softly in warning.

    And then, not for the first time in as many minutes, her jaw drops again and she quite literally rolls those blue eyes in wordless exasperation. Water, he was going to call her WATER. She stares directly at him, trying so desperately hard to see whatever it is these other morons seem to see in him. And maybe, possibly, she kind of gets it as she watches the pup roll over and the boy obliges him with harmless belly rubs.

    But it’s a kindness she has never seen before, a sincerity she doesn’t recognize and therefore tries to explain away. Except she cannot come up with a single thing he gets out of befriending wolves, except maybe fleas. Lord knows Thorn the Third over there seems itchy enough. So with those beautiful almond eyes narrowed, she sits to watch him, curling her plush blue tail around her feet.

    “Yeah okay Bird, nice to meet you too.”

    And realizes just a half second later, that wolves who aren’t horses pretending to be wolves, never speak. So she blinks, freezes, and then yips nonsensically.

    the devil in my arms said feed me to the wolves tonight



    @[Tamlin]


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: i know the rules, the weaker trees bend; tamlin - by winslow - 05-13-2020, 02:05 PM



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