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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


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    open | i want the mountains to crumble
    #6

    appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.

    There are two, and then there are three, as they are quickly joined by another. He is younger, still growing into himself, and she wonders what age he actually is. There are many who do not live nearly so long as those in Baltia, and she wonders if this group is like that. Do they live centuries without the aid of magic, as Baltians do? Or was this boy truly young, a few years at most? She cannot say, but of course, she doesn't even know where she is. Well, not entirely.

    She knows the ground on which her feet stand, but it has never been here before. How did it get here? Where was here? Those were the questions she needed to answer, though whether or not these horses could tell her, she hadn’t a clue. First though, she must be pleasant, a proper diplomat, someone they would feel comfortable talking to. Though she doesn’t need her mind reading to see that the mare she had approached is not particularly happy, which would likely make this conversation all the more interesting.

    ”Golden trees?” she asks, hardly needing to feign confusion at this moment. She has no idea that this mare’s home had sunk into the sea, after all. ”Not in Baltia. Our home is untouched besides an earthquake. Did something happen to your home?” She could certainly look in the sea for golden trees, though she would need some direction on where to look. Baltia was hardly the whole sea, after all.

    Her attention turns to the boy, Bolder, and she gives him a pleasant smile, about to answer when yet another joins them. Both the colt and the mare, who gave no name, ask about this place. ”I know it,” she says, and there is something sad in her voice as she says the words. Despite being tempted, she does not check the ground to see if the land is still stained red. ”As for how I got here, I swam,” and now there is a bit more of a playful grin on her face at the joke. “But I do not know where here is, or how my home suddenly became connected to it. Perhaps you can tell me about where we are, and in exchange, I can tell you about these ruins and Baltia?”

    REZZA

    Photo by Alice Alinari

    @bolder
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: open | i want the mountains to crumble - by Rezza - 12-09-2021, 08:06 PM



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