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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


    anyone;
    #11
    For your love I'd give my last breath
    Who is she? What is she?

    The questions hang idly in the recesses of her mind, surfacing again because of his redirected questions. Shiya wants to turn and run, but she hears his apology and melts. Everything inside her is wracked with uncertainty now and she is on the verge of giving everything up (her irrelevance, her mission, her lackadaisical perception of the world). It's his touch that grants her just barely enough strength to hold her composure, but it's also his touch that grants her mind access to return the gesture. Her entire side presses into him, her curves fitting into his, her scales leaning into his warm skin. "No, no, you don't need to apologize," it isn't his fault, it never could be. "If anything, you've granted me the most comfort that I have felt in years," the gentleness of her voice is almost lost in the wind as she peers up at him with her slit pupils.

    Like a starry-eyed child Shiya listens to the pieces of his story that were originally omitted. The little facts fascinate her but also send a shiver down the length of her spine. Once upon a time, he was dead. His corpse lied with the fish and the crabs, his skin rolling with the waves. The image is startling but dims away easily enough as he progresses further into his own tale. "Who could have the heart - or lack thereof - to murder you and Joelle?" The prospect disgusts her as she searches his face for any inclination. His eyes are kind but strong as their gaze meets again, his voice as reassuring as his touch. A feeble smile tries to wipe across her face. "I hope so," a sigh slips past her lips. The warmth of his body envelopes her and for a fleeting heartbeat Shiya is able to simply enjoy him and his company before she takes a slow, reluctant step away. "I suppose the one horse who is in every memory of mine would know the most about me," Eight is a shadow in her mind, always there, waiting. He is an ominous figure that has brought her both grief and joy.

    With hesitation Shiya takes another step away from Magnus. She drinks in the sight of the swaying green grass and the birch trees. "I must go," but she doesn't want to. She wants to stay where she has finally found solace and comfort. "Please, don't let me be alone," she whispers as she turns her head to look at him, "please don't forget me." With a wavering smile Shiya nods her head in gratitude before leaving Magnus behind, his voice still ringing in her thoughts.

    Shiya
    larva and dillan's lost little girl
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