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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


    [open]  My Gentle Stupid Mind
    #1
    [Image: 465-F0913-1-B3-B-4400-B9-D8-2-E594-EDE9-C6-B.jpg]
    Bayun
      A gentle mind can not comprehend evil. It can not wrap itself around the darkness and horrors of those who hold such darkness. It can't even imagine why someone would bring pain upon another living being. It wants only good for itself and others. And perhaps it has such a strong urge for goodness that this mind becomes selfish. A greed that wants to force kindness upon everything around. And it longs for a world of only gentle things. 

       But perhaps this gentle mind holds a fear of evil that overcomes its selfishness. It would rather be alone than face possible pain. It shows its selfishness among the gentle things of nature. The small things that cannot harm this gentle mind. 

       This gentle mind is resting now in Bayun. His dark sandy coat glistening in the warm autumn sun. The long tail trailing after him carries a beautiful display of crimson dahlias. His wavy mane, brushing past his shoulder, held the same blood colored flowers. His floaty steps carried him through the long grass. He plans his way across the meadow carefully. A path that will avoid any other equines. 

      His fear is irrational. And he is fully aware of it. But he has convinced himself that he holds a fear greater than death of others. And so he stays away. 

       His eyes now are focused on the pile of boulders resting against the hill side. The stream of water weaving between the rocks is a well sheltered area. One that doesn't usually host other horses. He hopes to find a space by the water to relax. To let the sun fall across his back before it becomes buried in winter clouds. His hooves carry him closer to the giant stones and he slows. His heart slowing and his tense muscles relaxing as he steps behind the boulders. The horses in the meadow have disappeared from his view.

       He feels safe now. The feeling of being watched, preyed on. The fear. It dissipates as he lowers his muzzle to drink from the chilling water. It washes away, carried down the stream, down the hill, away from his gentle mind. His stupid mind. A mind that has tricked itself into a cowardly way of living. He is a coward. A past fear that he has let grow over the years. He never faced it, never braved. Only ran from it. The fear that was once one single horse had expanded to all horses. His mind had programmed him to tremble in fear at the approach of a horse. To lose all rational thinking when faced by another of his own kind. To always hold a feeling of being preyed on when in the presence of other horses. 

       He lifts his head. His mind suddenly flooded with his stupidity. "I really hate myself." he spoke out loud. He always speaks out loud. With no one ever around, his thoughts have a habit of appearing on his lips. His amber eyes lowered to the grass below his hooves. A small orange butterfly between his hooves. One of its tender wings trapped under his heavy hoof. A pang of sadness strikes his heart. He lifts his hoof slowly and the delicate creature weakly flaps a single wing. It futters a little more and then lies limp. "And now you hate me too." he says. His voice emotionless. The exhaustion of being afraid was wearing him down. Years of tricking himself. Years of living alone. His joy in life had all but faded. Only small things, like flowers and butterflies brought him joy now. And he has killed one now. Killed his joy.

    He was slowly killing his joy. His life. 


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    #2
    The crux of teleportation is that one transports the whole of themselves to another place. Space becomes momentarily collapsed; folded reality, if you will. A water portal, to Ahti, was something like stepping through a mirror: the surface of a pond, lake, river or even a puddle on a particularly rainy day could function as an open door to the male. It was a concept that was rather new to him, and therefore interesting to explore.

    Fate would have it, then, that the murky sea-green male would be opening such a portal for himself just when a gentle mind in the shape of a champagne stallion would start talking to a butterfly. While, to the rest of the world, the large odd-coloured unicorn materialises, he thus catches the sound of his mumbled words. It takes a heartbeat or two to settle, and then he shakes his head at the younger male (easily assuming that in his 60+ years, he can claim more seasons than the other). ”Hate is too strong an emotion to so easily assume,” he claims. His voice is rather stern with disapproval and disagreement; not that he thinks it a personal matter, but Ahti has a strong opinion. ”Can you hate someone you don’t know, at all?” he then questions the other; perhaps he’ll learn something of it.

    If not, well, that says something about his personality indeed. Not a rather good thing, the water elemental would think.

    @Bayun ^^
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    #3
    Bayun

       The champagne stallion's thoughts had captured his attention and he didn't notice the ripples form on the water's surface as another being appeared. His eyes were focused on a spot of grass and when he finally lifted his head, snapping himself back into reality, he jumped back in surprise at the being that had so suddenly appeared. The surprise of a horse suddenly appearing already had his heart racing, but as the heavy fear settled over him his heart began pounding. He held himself still as the stallion before him spoke. His ears were flicking nervously, and his body was tense, ready to spring away and flee at the slightest gesture from the stranger. 

      The lime green unicorn's stern voice somehow did not cause Bayun to fear more. The tone of voice held a familiarity he hadn't heard in a long time. It reminded him of his fathers strong disciplining voice. Perhaps it was the strangers voice, or perhaps the thoughts that had been running through his mind moments ago, but something kept Bayun in place. He didn't turn and flee. The fear that covered him like a heavy fog had not left. But without knowing why he stayed still. Taking a few sharp breaths of air to calm himself he responds to the stranger. "I know all too well how strong hate is." he says. His voice is respectful and quiet, but the hint of nervousness is not hidden. He pauses, taking several deep breaths. "Yes, you can." he says simply. He doesn't feel the need to elaborate. Merely talking with another horse has caused his heart to race. And he has no reason to share with a stranger. "When someone does something to be hated for, they will be hated." he says in a quiet voice just above a whisper. He hadn't meant to say it aloud. But his habit of speaking his thoughts was strong.

     Bayun isn't one to quickly judge a person. If he can get past his fear of others first. He doesn't hate everyone. He fears everyone. He hates those few who hurt him, himself included. 

    @Ahti
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    #4
    The role of teacher, of shaman, of father - stern, but not from unkindness - is the only one he ever assumes naturally. Coming with about a century of years to his name, the large male falls into a pattern he’s known for longer than he’s known any one of his own children. There is a sadness to his heart and mind when the though surfaces from his subconscious, but it is overlooked with the presentation of the bay claiming to know hate. Perhaps he has an experience not too unlike true evil, as he claims that someone can hate without knowing. If it is true hate that way or a simple pushing away - not simple for the recipient, but the easy way for the hater - remains up to debate. Ahti would be saying so if something about the younger man’s demeanor causes a pause; another statement follows and he nods. ”So it’s the actions that you would hate.” Isn’t it so? He tilts his head, blinking and then smiling a bit at the other. ”I for one, would hate to see you hate yourself or someone else for one action, bad as it may be. Redemption should be on offer at least once. Don’t you think a second chance could turn someone around?” A single chance may be all that’s needed. If someone won’t take it, well yes, that is another story altogether.

    Someone like a young man with plenty of chances to learn from their past, perhaps? The watery male never moves from the surface when he makes that deduction; he could be wrong, certainly, but something about the other stallion makes him stay in teacher-mode, and it could be a subliminal message. One butterfly is lost, true. To claim that he must be hated henceforth would be too much even in Ahti’s experience.

    @Bayun Sorry I’m late! Hope this works to continue their dialogue
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