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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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    [private]  Nothing burns like the cold - Hexen
    #1
    The new girl had shown up to his little meeting, if that word could be used, like a good loyal subject and nothing more - but it was the way she spoke and moved around that made him believe she was capable of being so much more than just his subordinate’s herd mare. Sure, she liked Chem, that was clear, but perhaps she had more uses than one. So far, the Icicles had not been able to pick and choose too much, when it came to residents or food.

    With Alcinder off exploring and Sabrina finally having a task - albeit one as vague as possible, just to see what she would come up with - he decided he could ask the same of one or some others. They needed some way to establish a rank structure after all - in times like these, the former idea of leader, council and resident, became too shallow for a territory like the Isle.

    He’s stalked the mare a few times - his combined dragon vision and darkness aura helped him escape her notice, by seeing her from much farther away than she him, as well as himself being clouded. Perhaps it was not necessary though, and as he found out, she wasn’t too sneaky herself. No, she was more of the straight-through kind of person; almost Sabrina’s opposite. For two mares to both live here, it was remarkable - but perhaps it was only the extremes that could and would live here, no matter on which side of the spectrum that extreme lay.

    She looks to be grazing on the stubborn stalks that pop up between the cracks of rock here and there; they’re tough and not too tasty, but they’re food. He approaches openly, his newfound tattoos contrasting to his roan coat where they reach his lower chest and belly, but otherwise still the same and easily recognizable as the same who called the meeting. ”Hexen.” he remembers her name, dipping his head towards her in greeting. ”I don’t think we were formally introduced, but welcome to the broken Isle.”
    nothing burns like the cold
    Leilan

    @[Hexen] For you! <3
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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