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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


    that hate in your heart has been branded by my name; laura
    #1

    He does not try to hide in the darkness of the forest, though its fog and shadow attempt to cling to him with hungry, humid teeth. The taste of water is still sweet on his tongue, cool and clear, drip-drying in the fading light. Dusk settles in with a sigh, breathing against the deep green and white of his skin, a warmth that gently rustles the dampness of tri-colored downy feathers, delicate and tender in the way it caresses the fragile bones that flex mindlessly beneath. Gold and orange of sun-set trickle through the canopy, painting him with intricate patterns of the branches above.

    Silence scrapes at his brain and it causes the young colt’s golden mouth to press into a fervent line, his jaw champing at the moist air. The trees are silent, the stones are deaf, the dried pine needles that litter the forest floor are mute - it is nearly agonizing to him as he picks his way carefully over the underbrush, his slender gold and white legs carrying him over tangled tree roots twisted into rock and dirt. His own thoughts are not enough; they do not taste as sweet nor do they satisfy the deep burning in the back of his throat that spreads far into the soft slope of his youthful chest. His own thoughts are mush and meal compared to the others so those tender, lavender eyes scour the descending darkness of the forest for anything alive, anything he could pry himself into and nestle there, like a crow coming home to roost.

    Becoming frustrated and impatient, he sets a lure. Invisible yet like a string, stretching into the deepness of the woods as far as he could, attempting to find whatever may lay within his grasp - anything would do, as long as the silence would end and he would not be left to his own thoughts that chatter angrily in his mind.

    Just when he thinks that he may truly be alone in this forest (when his skin has nearly dried from the river and the drops of water on his feathers only glisten dimly in the dull light), something calls to him without knowing he is listening. His lure has found a catch and, without any hesitation, the colt turns sharply and quickens his pace, following the barely inaudible stream of consciousness so that he may amplify it. Much like a drug, he cannot function without this high - the way he can hear their most private concerns and hopes, privy to their needs and wants in a way that makes him wedge himself like a burr (or more like a tick, feeding endlessly).

    With a sharp snort, he realizes he cannot place them perfectly, slowing his movements into something more deliberate, more purposeful. “Where are you?” he murmurs into the nothingness, his voice sweet and curious as it falls into the dusk of the forest. At the same time he plunges deep into their mind with hungry fists, digging and clawing and pressing them fervently (angrily?) with another statement - but with his voice all the gentleness of a feather: 

    I know you’re here.

    molech.




    @[laura]
    Reply
    #2

    only silence remained, holding my breath in the dark; gasping for air with the lungs of a lark

    Aero does not often leave her family, but she does today.

    She sneaks off when they are still asleep, her heart pounding in her chest as she makes her way from the Tephran land and deeper into the Beqanna that she knows little of. She is young still and painfully sheltered—naive with the glorious beauty of having been kept from the dangers and sharp corners of this world. Today though, she pushes against them. She presses further and further through the kingdoms that bank against her home. Cutting through parts of Sylva and then Loess as she moves.

    When she tires, she shifts, turning into one of the small birds that she has seen flitting about in her home. The shifts are exhausting still, but traveling by air is less cumbersome than by foot, and she finds that the exertion balances itself out, in its own way. With her wings spread wide, she cuts through the afternoon.

    As the sun dips low, she does too, landing amongst the trees and the bramble of the forest, her eyes still remarkably green, even when set against the rich darkness of her feathered body. Her head tilts to the side just slightly when she hears the noises coming, when the world comes into stark relief and she feels that whisper of his in her head more than she actually hears it. Aero trills and then chirps lightly.

    Confused, she shifts into a small squirrel, racing down the trunk of the tree to the forest floor.

    Of course I’m here, she thinks hard, not sure if he can hear her too.

    Raising her tiny skull, she looks around, not sure if what she feels is fear, exhilaration, or both.

    aero
    Reply
    #3

    The young colt hears nothing in return except for the sweetly trilling call of a forest bird. He snorts softly, golden nostrils flaring, peering through the quickly fading light of dusk. Tawny-lined ears flick back into the deep gold of his mane, his mouth erupting into a snarl. That terrible forked tongue - black and unnatural - seeps from his golden lips, tasting the cold air greedily. Molech has halted now, the once light gold of sunset that illuminated his body now dark with shadows of nightfall; the branches’ play their spindly fingers across his skin, dark and ominous as they stretch with the final rays of sunlight.

    He swallows a shout of frustration. It is then that her thoughts find him again and, this time, she calls to him willingly.

    That screwed up grimace now flattens and curves into a delectable grin, his lavender eyes alighting with mischief and curiosity. His ears prick forward as he takes a single step, halting mid-way as the sound of tiny claws skittering against rough bark causes him to falter. I’ve been looking for you, he whispers into her mind almost mournfully, a solemnity in the gentle curiousness of his telepathy. Come out, he tells himself frustratingly, though is careful that the anger in that particular thought does not reach her mind.

    She still hadn’t answered his question - where are you? - and he fits hard to remain calm. His power to incite fear wraps quietly around himself, ready to seek out its target. He does not enjoy being toyed with - he would much rather be the one in that position of power. He wonders seethingly if he will be able to hide amongst his own charms when she finally reveals herself to him. His patience is already wearing thin.

    But if he is to become a hunter, a collector, he must remember his self-control. So the aura remains close to him, not yet sent out to strike fear into what he imagines is a tiny, willowy, pittering heart.

    “Please come out,” he says aloud, his head turning left to right (and even glancing up to the treetops), “I don’t want to be alone in the dark.” He nearly pouts, not afraid to feign helplessness. 

    molech.




    @[aero]
    Reply
    #4

    only silence remained, holding my breath in the dark; gasping for air with the lungs of a lark

    The voices continue to whisper in the back of her mind.

    Something familiar and alien all at once—so different from what it was like to be surrounded by the din of her family. It is quiet here and it feels as though the only thing she can feel at all is the sound of this voice—the one that rings in her mind. She wonders if she was making it up. If perhaps she had created this voice as something for herself—a gift, perhaps. Something to pass the time. Something of her own.

    She sniffs the air again before she shifts into a small lizard, scurrying along the ground amongst the leaves and the brambles. I am out, this time, it is a more hesitant answer that she gives him in the whispers of her mind. Something that she cannot quite hold back. Would her mother find her, she wonders, if she finds the source of this voice and it was not as kind as she had hoped that it would be.

    Would her father know where she had gone?

    Such things melt away though when the voice rings out into the air.

    The helplessness in it instantly grabs her, digs claws into an innocent and naive heart, and she shifts into her true self nearly instantly—unable to hold the form of the small creature. She stands on coltish legs, her green eyes peering into the shadows as her small wings fold over her back. She lifts a single leg as though to step more confidently forward before she plants the opal into the ground once more.

    After all, she still had no idea which direction to go.

    “You don’t have to be alone,” she whispers.

    aero


    hello remember me?

    @[Molech]
    Reply
    #5

    Molech

    There is a sliver of moment that Molech believes he will not find the source of the thoughts. His gold-tipped ears press back into his neck in these ticking of seconds and silence, when he is met with only empty air as a reply. His lavender eyes are scouring the forest, that terrible forked tongue slipping in between his teeth, black and ugly, shining menacingly in the dull light.

    There is movement somewhere within the dying light and Molech snorts softly, turning his deep green head towards it, his ears flicking forward as his tongue slips back into his mouth. He lifts his head, nostrils flaring. A delectable smile splits his lips as she finally replies to him, this time out loud, making it easy for him to begin to make his way towards her.

    The colt picks his way carefully, deep goldenrod legs moving over the forest floor and the scattered branches and rocks that it holds.

    She burns like firelight in the slow shadows that grow over the forest. A rich red against a background of black and evergreen touched with such a soft white that his purple eyes easily draw to her. That once malicious smile has already faded, replaced with a look of gentle worry - brows rising and his mouth slack, deciding to slow his movements towards her to feign nervousness. She will come to him, not the other way around.

    Molech finds it hard to keep the adrenaline that presses into his pulse from alighting in his eyes. He stops a good few lengths away from her, her electric green eyes enticing him to come further - but he doesn’t. There is a soft flutter of his own wings against his ribcage, the only sound against the otherwise still forest.

    “You heard me,” he tells her softly, admiringly, with a gentle tilt of his head. “You don’t have to be alone either,” He then suggests thoughtfully, taking a single step towards her with the tiniest of shy smiles finding his mouth.
    YOUR PRECIOUS LIGHT IS FADING



    @[aero]
    i will never ever forget you! <3
    Reply
    #6

    only silence remained, holding my breath in the dark; gasping for air with the lungs of a lark

    She has no defenses against someone like him.

    Nothing to warn her that the gentle worry she sees crease his brow is anything but genuine. It draws her forward like a firefly, easily alighting on the palm of his hand. “I did,” she answers quickly, some kind of soft wonder in her voice as she takes another step toward him—the rich awe clear on her face as she takes in the gold of him, the velvety green. Her tongue touches her bottom lip for a second in thought before she takes yet another step, having no idea that she was wading deeper and deeper into the waters of him.

    “I don’t mind being alone,” she says quickly, as though to ease his own concern. Her head tilts backward, looking over a thin shoulder to the horizon where she knows her family lies behind. “My brothers and sisters are back there,” a frown that tugs at her mouth, washing over her features. “Somewhere.”

    How had she gotten so deep into the forest?

    The question fades as quickly as it had arisen though and she once again finds herself pulled in by the magnetism of him, turning back to face him. She shifts, settling her weight as her wings fold over her back. “I am glad to be with you though,” her voice is hesitant, unsure why she would not give such a thought freely. She has never learned to not be forthcoming. Never learned to not show her heart.

    “My name is Aero,” there’s something shy in the tilt of her head that mimics his own faux version.

    “What is yours?”

    aero


    @[Molech]
    Reply
    #7

    Molech

    These are the ones - the gentle ones, the soft and unsuspecting ones - he craves the most.

    Molech can feel the adrenaline rise in his heartbeat, feeling the unhealthy obsession that plagues him beginning to surface. He watches her so intently - he wonders if she notices the degree at which his lavender eyes pry into her own, desperate for her undivided attention. “You don’t?” he replies softly with a tilt of his head, golden tendrils of his forelock falling across his light purple eyes. This question is genuine, unlike most everything that comes out of his mouth. “I hate it.” He confesses it to her with coldness in his voice, his brows creasing as his mouth crinkles into a scowl. He’s quick to recover, though, shaking his head slightly and softening his features.

    Then, she turns away from him.

    His gaze darkens, a bitter taste on his tongue as it slides out of his mouth angrily. She doesn’t need them. He hastily takes a few more steps towards her as his possessiveness over her leads him forward. His forward motion stops in a few steps, allowing his body to relax just as she turns to face him again (of course she would, why would he think otherwise?). “I’m thankful for that,” he tells her with a gentle chuckle towards the end of his words, smiling at her, “the forest gets really lonely sometimes.” Molech’s face grows serious for a moment, unsure if he is lying or telling the truth. Sometimes, he finds, his lines get crossed.

    “Hi, Aero. I’m Molech.”

    The young colt tells himself to restrain himself, to ease into this slowly, but he cannot help himself from asking about her family: “You live here, in the forest, too?” He hides his underlying interest well, seemingly trying to find commonalities between them, but is really fishing for more information - could he steal her away from them, or would the endeavor be more difficult than his last?
    YOUR PRECIOUS LIGHT IS FADING



    @[aero]
    Reply
    #8

    only silence remained, holding my breath in the dark; gasping for air with the lungs of a lark

    There is something lonely about him—nearly sad—and it calls to her heart that beats small wings against the backside of her ribs. She feels it fluttering there, this need to help him, to soothe him, to ease the bruises of his kind eyes, and she does not realize that she walks directly into the trap he lies for her. There are no defenses for her to fall back upon. Nothing with which to use as a shield against him.

    He crooks a finger and she gladly stumbles forward.

    She feels her gaze pulling back to him, leaving where they had been trained on the horizon—looking for her family, she thinks—and focuses on the handsome lines of his young face. “I don’t find it lonely,” she says with a shy smile, rolling her shoulders as though embarrassed to admit it. “But I prefer the company of the small creatures who call it home more than I like the company of most anything.”

    A silly thing to say, she realizes too late.

    (She was such a silly, silly girl.)

    “Molech,” she repeats with that shy tilt of her lips. “I like your name.” Another shy dip of her head, Aero reaching down to rub her nose against her foreleg as though that had been her plan all along. As though she simply could not bear to look him in the eye any longer, least she see mockery reflected back at her.

    After several minutes pass, she looks back up. “Oh, no,” she remembers her family again and twists to look back at the horizon. “I live in Tephra.” How could she possibly explain the breadth of her family? How they ran like a pack together—how she sometimes felt lost amongst them all and yet perfectly at home when crowded around all of her siblings. “But I like to come out here and adventure.”

    A small shrug.

    “My version of adventure, at least.”

    aero


    @[Molech]
    Reply
    #9

    Molech

    There is some truth in his solemnity, though it crosses his face for far more deadly reasons than to merely be pitied. Those with the gentlest of hearts flutter to it without a thought, drawn to that sadness etched onto his handsome face, dreaming of pressing away all those hard edges and dark shadow that trace him. He is a monster (and perhaps that is something they can see but choose to ignore), but only because no one has ever taught him any different and the idea of being the one to fix him - isn’t that just, perfection? It’s a thought process he had listened to once or twice as he trapezes around the forest, searching the pines for the tender girls who are easily plucked, like a flower from a garden.

    “That’s a blessing, then,” he replies gently, his golden lips upturning into a smile. His slender legs bring him forward, jarring white etched with gold at the knees, unable to keep his distance and finding that their casual conversation is warm enough to do so without scaring her away. “What kind of creatures?” He asks this with a soft rise of his brows, infiltrating her mind once again to prod and pry - what did she think of him?

    There is no fear that lies in the forefront and that puts Molech at ease.

    She looks away from him and he frowns, pausing his steps towards her. His tri-colored wings fluff seemingly thoughtlessly at his sides but it is only an attempt to cover up the agitation that begins to build up, hot and thrumming in his throat. He clenches his jaw tightly, realizing that convincing her to stay would possibly be more of a struggle than it would be worth. Molech heaves a gentle sigh, smiling as she turns back around to face him.

    “Tephra? That’s where the volcano is, right?” He asks so that perhaps her shyness will fade sooner, made comfortable by his voice and the way he is so interested in all things her.

    The young stallion takes another step towards her with a curious tilt of his blazed face. “What kind of adventure are you looking for?”
    YOUR PRECIOUS LIGHT IS FADING



    @[aero]
    Reply




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