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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


    Like the moon we come around // Wit, Any
    #1
    Photo 
    Her chest was rising and falling, tiny lungs complaining with the effort of keeping her on her feet. The velveteen panels of her wings drooped by her sides as she and Wit came to a stuttering halt, sweat foaming their skins with exertion. Steaming and shaking now that the adrenaline had poured off, she turned her gilt little head to her golden brother.

    "I- I dunno," she shuddered, coughing as the words passed her parched throat. "But it was hungry." A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that they'd broken away from the predator, but had fled into unknown territory in the meantime. The familiar faces of their native trees were missing, replaced with smaller cousins and raggedy brush. 

    Her eyes blinked tiredly at the strange surroundings, and she decided she'd rather take a nap than deal with this next round of madness. Spindly legs folded delicately beneath her, knees vanishing into the minty green fluff of her chest. "I dunno," she said again, breath finally slowing to something closer to its natural pace. 

    @[Wit]
    #2

    genius always finds itself a century too early

    He doesn’t have to be any kind of an empath to see that his sister was tired. Their haphazard race through the woods had left him winded and tired as well, but the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, which kept him on his hooves. Still, she is smaller than he and likely had to work harder to run that distance by a significant amount. Her adrenaline was probably running out. So it is no surprise when she folds her legs beneath her and sinks to the ground to lay down.

    Wit feels instinctively protective over his little sister and moves to her side. He folds his own legs beneath him and lays down beside her, close enough that she is pressed against him and he can wrap his head over her shoulders. It was starting to get late, and the temperature was just beginning to dip. Not only that, but it feels much cooler here than it had been in Taiga. The closeness would provide not only protection, but comfort as well, both physically and mentally–well, at least he hoped.

    @[Saturnelle]’s breathing slows, a sign that her body is returning from its fight-or-flight state to a state of normalcy, but his breathing remains quick and labored, as if his body is not ready to settle down just yet. They had left Taiga behind. Where, he wasn’t quite sure, but judging by the trees that they had come from, it had to have been a long time ago. These trees are much different than the massive redwoods they had grown up among. They were thick instead of tall, with wide branches that shivered with green leaves and purple flowers. Under other circumstances, he might have been intrigued, but right now, he is scared and on-guard, and the trees only serve as a reminder for how far away from home they are.

    He gently presses his nose against the side of her neck to comfort her, though perhaps it is also more of a comfort for himself as well. “Well, let’s get some rest for now,” he says, “In the morning, we can try to figure out where we are and how to get home.” The idea of spending the night alone in a foreign land was terribly frightening, but so was the idea of trying to find their way home in the dark.

    wit

    Image by Katie Moum




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