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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


    Here in the forest dark and deep, i offer you eternal sleep; demian
    #1

    One never truly knows how heavy a secret can weigh. Like iron, lead lead. It burdens weary shoulders and can cause the wearer to fall to their knees, defeated by one single, inconspicuous word. Perhaps there was something about me, that made the allure of the mystical, the secrets that the world held, that made me some magnet to them. I have held secrets and told few; to the weedy trees that grow into strong, burly trunks, I have whispered my woes, and told of my fancies, and as there wind pulls at their boughs, I am sure I can hear them return the feeling of comfort.

    'No one is willing to do much nowadays. Tell a secret, keep a secret. Work until bones turn to stone and muscles to jelly...' I hold Demian's gaze then, quite solidly. Burning into him as though my eyes are fire and I set his soul aflame. Ah, but then my head tilts, just so, eyes falling across the field. Looking out and silently judging them out there. I turn back to Demian, with a smooth, magical grin. 'But you, I can tell.' As if the secret of knowledge sits just behind my closed lips, my silver tongue. 'Oh, Demian the martyr.' there is whimsy and there is promise, like the emerald grass of summer and the fallen leaves in autumn, so what will be, so what is.

    'Be the Valley run rampant with souls, perhaps it would be busy, but they are all ants, ants that pander to their own wills. But where strength comes is not only in numbers, but the loyalty and strength of those that follow.' I idle then, eyes closing, simply, a smooth hum in my voice that matches the crinkle of the wind as it whips past, taking with it parts of my teal and purple mane, they spread across my face and I feel christened by the touch of colour. 'Follow to the death, to the glory and to the ruin. Those sort of ants, we do not squash.' As if on cue, my flinty hoof presses deep into the earth; though ants are probably hiding in their colonies, their kingdom, I add to the emphasis of my words. Before lifting my crown and following Demian.

    *

    'Perhaps you don't want the valley as what it was once, but something new, something different.' I gesture, as we step into the throes of the darkness and the light; the way the valley is an expanse, of rock and of trees, of an open space that I can picture much, and see very little. I turn to Demian, eyeing up his jaguar spots, his wings. I dip my head, muzzle touching the valley floor, purple horn seeming to glisten as the rays of light, act like spires and daggers, pulling across my cocoa skin. 'Because there is oddity and there is difference. And they are always overlooked. Perhaps, we show that the Valley is different, the Valley is different indeed.' I pause here, slow, deliberate as I step forward, my shadow hide shifting, limbs like long, spires, swallowing the ground. 'I would love to see the ants that grow through adversary to become fine kings, and troubling queens.' A flick of my tail, a turn of my gaze and a smooth smile, 'Because adversary makes us all...'

    I am silent, for what seems eternity. The shifting winds pulling and tugging at me, before I shift back towards the steed, eyes aglow with something daring, something audacious. 'What are your plans, Demian?'

    .

    j y n x s

    here in the forest dark and deep, i offer you, eternal sleep



    OOC: I hope you don't mind the shift to the valley, and the random change =] And such weirdness. Haha <3




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