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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


    [open]  these hallowed halls - any
    #1

    oh me oh my, i thought it was a dream...

    Chem finds himself withdrawn from the world lately. Finding peace, real solace, in the silence of his home. Just he, Irisaen and the Cove. He’s learned each inch, and still discovering more about the mysterious territory every day. His companion is getting too large to hide in his mane as she used to, and she now slithers beside him most of the time, or coiled atop his withers; a great iridescent reptilian ornament. They wander the hills, the heather fields, the shores, the shallow caves and the enormous rock formations standing bravely in the violent tides. Sometimes others are moving about, but they’re leftovers from those who used to haunt here, or still idly do, but either way they do not have much to do with him and he has no urge to try and chase anyone away. Why would he bother? Plenty of room, and they’re no threat to him as far as he can see. So far, anyway.

    A foggy morning on the black sand beach facing Hyaline’s not so distant shore. The small lagoon that separates them churns wildly, and it looks deceptively close to the Kingdom; Chem knows from experience it isn’t so easy to cross, not as a horse anyway. A problem he no longer is anchored by, thankfully. His most comfortable skin is his own, but he can’t help but relish in the magical freedom that is shapeshifting.

    Without any real purpose, and many different trains of thought, the stallion just stares off toward Hyaline. The mists rising slowly, sunrise bringing a golden light to the darkish Cove, the lace-cap waves starting to boil a little harder as the morning progresses. His python slithering down from his withers, curling down his thick leg and into the onyx pebbled sands, staring in the same direction as Chem.









    i'm not really sure
    just letting everyone know he's around, i guess? lol
    Reply
    #2
    Moira is unfamiliar with the waters of the north. She is swept up by the cold current near Icicle Isle, and cannot escape it until she is many miles east. The young nereid finds refuge in a cove, and curls into a rocky crevice to rest through the night.

    When she wakes, dawn has turned the water around her to a soft grey that before she has seen only on her own skin. It is beautiful, and though it is far colder than her tropical home, the nereid spends some time swimming simply for the joy of it. Now and again she breaches the water, leaping into the air to feel the cold bite of autumn on her scales, then plunges back into the depths.

    She cannot imagine the wondrous sight she makes, a glittering thing in the sunlit fog, young and strong and - when she is finally still enough to make out her features - impossibly beautiful. She knows only that this feels marvelous, and she is still laughing in delight when she sees the stranger on the shore.

    Moira calls out to him, and her greeting is a few notes of a song, one that she knows might beckon him nearer. It’s a woman’s song, one that she’s still learning. By the autumn she will master it, Moira is sure.

    She is not thinking of danger as she swims closer, but rather of the difficulty that terrestrial creatures can have in the water. Luring him into the depths might not be safe, so she comes to the shallows.

    When the water laps at her chest she stands, four legs holding her weight rather than the tail and fins she’d had a moment before.

    “Hello,” she says, a pair of notes in her siren song, one she uses lest her voice grate on ears above the water. 

    “Would you mind telling me where I am? I’m afraid I’ve gotten a little lost, and would appreciate your help. I’m trying to get back to Ischia?”

    There is a snake coiled at his feet, Moira realizes. She calls out to it in the way of water things, but it is not an aquatic creature, and so only the minnows at her feet respond, nibbling gently at the gold and violet markings along her legs.
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