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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


    [private]  we are infinite as the universe we hold inside; capulet
    #1

    iridian

    She wakes before the sun finds its place in the sky, wakes while the moon still hangs like a silver coin in a sea of silver diamond stars. It could already be morning for all she knows, could be midday or even well into evening. Time here has less meaning than it does outside the dreamscape, and even though she tries to keep track of it, it has a habit of slipping away from her until either her moms or Indius can correct her.

    She remains unaware of the boy in the distance for a long while - it’s rare for anyone to dream themselves into her own private dreamscape. Usually she is the one that has to go find them, following whatever golden thread ties their dream to her quiet, ever changing world. So when she does finally pause and look across her quiet meadow, she is startled into doelike stillness at his sudden and almost eerie appearance.

    Her delicate face tilts to one side, spilling long, thick tangles of chestnut mane across her neck and her face as those navy eyes peer out at him. They seem almost alien, just slightly too large for a face just slightly too refined to be considered plain. When she takes a few curious steps towards him, her hooves are tiny cloven things, leaving faint twin crescents in the soft loamy ground beneath her.

    “Hello.” She calls to him, shrinking the dreamscape space between them with a single, practiced thought. Her eyes are so wide and luminous, almost worried as she watches that halo flash into existence above his ears, casting him in a shade of cool navy she knows so intimately well. “Are you an angel?” She wonders in instant awe, a soft sunshine smile on those pale white whiskered lips. “Are you my angel?” There is an uncertain emphasis on my as the wonder in her swells to something almost intimidatingly beautiful inside her chest as she draws to a halt before him. “My name is Iri - Iridian.” She isn’t sure why she’s whispering now, except that the closer she came, the more she was certain she’s never seen as dark a shade of night as he is.
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