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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]  The Young and the Restless
    #1
    The sun had only just started to crest the horizon when Tivali opened her eyes. For a moment she lay still, her copper muzzle resting upon her slightly outstretched front legs, both of which sported pearly white markings that swirled past her knees. It had been too long since she had granted herself the luxury of a deep sleep, she mused as she finally pulled herself to her feet.

     
    Stretching the nights aches and pains away, her spotted red and white back arched with the grace of a young filly, not quite a mare, still no longer a foal. She carried herself with the confidence that came with being so young, believing she knew all there was to know about the word. Life for Tivali had been simple, and she yearned for adventure, for new things to see and do, new horses to meet. To her life’s journey was still about the destination, and to her in that moment there was nothing wrong with that. 
     
    With a quick shake, she stepped out from the cloud of dust that rose from her deep red coat and made her way towards the rivers edge. It was a pretty place, she decided as she bent her neck to drink. She had never felt very at ease around water, but saw it more as a necessary evil for life. Small droplets clung to her whiskers and glinted brightly as daylight finally broke across the valley. 
     
    Today was the day. She could feel it in her bones. Today was the day her life began.
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    #2
    The blue eyed black mare wandered alone these days. Long after the fall of the Chamber, and her own resurection, she remained alone. She often saw horses that resembled her son in some way, the son that survived.

    The dark mare moved with an aged gait, showing her 20 years of life. She smiled as she thought of her antics in her younger day, and how her body was sure to be different. Her thoughs paused when her orbs landed on a young filly, standing as if she were just on her own.

    Ethaethe gave a throaty call, the way she sounded showed she had been around a while. "Hello, youngster. Not often I see someone around these parts." She offered a kind smile. "Any way I can help you, Tadpole?"

    ---

    (Ooc: not sure why I ha her call her tadpole, but whatever xD @Tivali
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    #3
    As the days on the mainland grow shorter and colder, the ice dragon finds himself more territory, in a way. Space to roam, room to fly, skies carrying him and his wings to places that are almost-equally cold as his natural habitat.

    Almost.

    Autumn had always been his season; the color of red and brown, and perhaps a bit of white hoarfrost, and the golden last rays of sun to his skin. Nowadays of course he was naturally associated with winter, bringing ice-made scales and a breath as cold as hell (for hell holds all the extremes a body cannot muster - he’d test the theory if he ever made it to the Afterlife).

    His white and silver wings fold back and disappear after his landing, and the frost-marked roan steps almost daintily through the trees, as if he’s not the worst predator around. His sharp teeth neatly concealed courtesy to the shifting abilities he now possessed, he hasn’t a care in the world where he goes.

    Gazing around and grazing left and right, he makes his way from the Mountain to the southern shore, or at least that is the general idea of his trek. He never makes it, of course; finding instead two mares, one with eyes of ice blue just like his, and black as night just like his swirling leg tattoos, though his seem blacker and eating away the light surrounding them - while the other is a young filly, called Tadpole by the other, red like flame though marked with white.

    As he stops, a smile creeps to his face, though it doesn’t truly reach his ice-coloured eyes. ”Even I could come up with a better nickname than that,” he comments dryly; though his tone reveals nothing, his eye color seems to change from an icy blue to an icy sea-green. He looks from one to another with his slow smile still on his face as he shrugs. ”Isn’t this neat. I found a Coal and a Spitfire.” he tilts his head at then, perking his ears, attention divided between them. He’s not gonna get any closer than this normal talking distance; pending the reaction he may have to back up a little, even, but some things just can’t be helped.
    nothing burns like the cold
    Leilan

    @[Tivali] @[Ethaethe]
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
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    #4
    Breathing deeply and preparing to make her way from the rivers edge, Tivali caught the scent of another on the gentle breeze. A mare, almost the exact opposite of herself she noted as the other stepped into view. The mare was older, dare she say old, and as black as a moonless night. Her eyes caught the filly off guard for a moment, they were captivatingly blue, and held the stories of a lifetime deep within them. This mare had seen things that Tivali couldn’t imagine, she was sure. 
     
    A quick nose toss in her direction and the red filly began to call a greeting but the older mare beat her to the punch. 
     
    Tadpole?
     
    It sounded like a term of endearment, but the childish nature of it made Tivali slash her tail across her flanks. 
     
    Keeping her voice level, she tried to hide her annoyance, “Good morning. I don’t think I need help mother,” she paused, letting the word hang for a moment. Meant in respect, but with the barest hint of her frustration edged in it. 
     
    I’m not sure myself what I’m searching for, so any help finding it would be only in vain!
     
    Even as the words left her mouth, with a soft laugh accentuating then, she caught the scent of yet another, a heartbeat before he fell from the sky. Shying to the side, she attempted to hide her surprise poorly. Pawing once at the ground in annoyance, now at herself for being so easily set upon not once, but twice, she blew sharply into the air and turned to face the newcomer head on. 
     
    The roan was striking, she admitted to herself as she allowed herself to gaze over him.  He carried himself with a confidence that she envied, and perhaps… feared? He did not appear to be outwardly dangerous, but something about him made her withers twitch in unease.
     
    She quivered the way young fillies do when a handsome stallion gives them a nickname. Spitfire was much more appealing to her, though she dared not show it. 
     
    I have a name you know! I’m Tivali.” She stood up proudly as she said it, flapping her lips a little as it rolled from her tongue. It was truly a name she loved, a name she had chosen for herself.  
     
    And who are you then?
     
    Her deep brown eyes flicked back and forth between the two older horses, unimpeded by mane or forelock, she could keep them both in her sights at once. 


    Ooc: I’m going to have to get a table made up for her soon! It looks so empty posting without it! And she might not like tadpole, but I love it haha
    @Ethaethe @Leilan
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    #5
    Oh, her eyes did hold many a story. They held what happened if you pushed a foal away, what happened if you did the unnatural. What happened when you died, if you got brough back. She knew there could be many a story to be told, but this young filly likely wouldnt listen.

    Ethaethe then flicked her ears, the filly reminding her of herself more and more. Her attention was snagged by a handsome young looking stallion, captivated with his unique markings. She then moved her frosty gaze back to the red filly, and let out a soft chuckle.

    "Well, Tivali is a nice name." She smiled kindly at the steed next. "My name is Ethaethe, but you can call me anything." A soft chuckle emerged again. Something about him reminded her of her son, if she hadn't have died. Maybe he would've been like the two stillborns that died alongside her on the beach so many years ago.

    Who knows, but she'd like to get to know both more.

    ---

    ((Ooc: I should find Ethaethe's table! Also she probably will call her Tadpole from time to time, glad you like it! Also, is it just me or am I getting Loki vibes from Leilan?))
    @[Tivali] @[Leilan]
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    #6
    Coming closer, it seems the red-appy filly indeed is a spitfire as far as he sees - and hears, mostly. Mother? Are we age-discriminating now, he wonders briefly - and yes, he could come up with something better than that. Although Coal in itself wasn’t the greatest nickname, in his opinion the black mare was the fuel that this little fire girl was using to burn even more. He would have enjoyed watching the show, of course, but it would be even better to stoke up the fire even more if he could.

    What else could be the meaning of his endless life, if not to bring a little fun to the otherwise mundane? It was all about balance, he’d heard - something bad must be compensated with something good, and something good... well. He does it both equally easily, honestly - it must depends on the circumstances which way he’ll sway today. One time he adopts little children, other times he raids the greens with his fellow marauders.

    That the Icicles don’t have many other choices, well, that just helps him slither between the mazes of the webs or law. Today though, he isn’t really out for malice - just to satisfy his curiosity and, honestly, just poke when he can. A dragon on the loose, but not one that is particularly hungry - just a bored one. Is that worse? Perhaps.

    Introductions are given, so he doesn’t stay behind. ”Name’s Leilan. Nice meeting you, Tivali, Anything.” A playful smile curls his lips, though he is careful not to show teeth - who knows what they look like, what with his subconscious changes happening still. He’s got the ability now... a year and a half? Longer? But sometimes emotions get the better of him, and he’d had the teeth before - sometimes they just pop out.

    Instead, he twist his ears and moves his tail, restless as he has stopped his earlier trip downriver. ”So, any particular reason we’re meeting here?” His green-tinted eyes twinkle mischievously, knowing full well that nothing about the meeting was set up, but nevertheless, he needs to add something to the conversation to move forward, and his unconventional ways of asking questions seem just the thing right now. Besides, none of them had snapped at him - a trait he likes about the both of them, in particular.
    nothing burns like the cold
    Leilan

    @[Tivali] @[Ethaethe] lol, then I’ve written him well enough if you got that from one post haha. Sorry not sorry on the naming business... he was given the opportunity *facepalm*.
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
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    #7
    Tivali paused her careless thoughts for a moment as she stared at the black mare before her. There was something in her gaze that spoke of sadness, no… worse than that, a feeling that Tivali was unsure she could even name. That this mare could teach her much she was certain, did she want that though? So soon in her travels away from the wretched family she had left behind? Shaking herself slightly, she pushed the thoughts from her mind. 
     
    Her attention was pulled from Ethaethe before she could address her though as the stallion with the mysterious, exciting aura spoke again, inquiring on the nature of their meeting here at the rivers edge. 
     
    “Well I was about to leave this place. Never was much for water myself, I never expected to run into two such exciting individuals!” 
     
    The comment was directed at both horses opposite her, but she eyed the stud as she uttered the words. Naïvety flowed through her as thick and as fast as her own blood, having never met a stallion not of her own family in her three living years. It was exciting, no… it was something else. Just as with the black mates sadness, she couldn’t quite name her own emotions. She felt a tingling at her withers as her body quaked softly, and unbeknownst to her tiny flames, barely visible in the growing daylight danced at her shoulders.
     
    At last she tore her eyes from him and spoke herself firmly, all trace of fire vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. 
     
    “Where shall we go then?”
     
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