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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


    witchy woman, for Sunday
    #1
    They do  not like the way the black mare eyes them;
    She looks as if she will scold them for being the children that they are - bright, curious, playful things.
    She looks as if she hates them, because they are Offspring’s and a mare’s but not hers, never hers.
    They can see these things in the way her stares are hard, almost hateful towards them.
    So they stop playing in the river, stop sniffing the black-brown rock of the volcano’s craterous foot, and they go back to the only place they do not have to deal with such judgmental stares - the Meadow.

    “I do not like her.” He mutters, bruised inwardly by the black mare’s callous nature towards them.
    “I don’t either, but she is one of father’s followers.” She nuzzles his neck, smoothing an unruly strand of hair that likes to curl away from the others. “Besides, I think she is jealous.” He pulls away from her, curious as to why she thinks this but he does not need to ask - Spark explains it to him; “I’ve seen the way she looks at father, and I do not think she likes the fact that he strayed from Isle a couple of seasons ago, and made so many more than just us.”

    Spear still looks as if he isn’t getting it so Spark sighs and nips at his whiskery chin, “She didn’t get to bear one of his foals, silly.” Spear pulls his head back from his nip, and snorts out his laughter - stallions and mares, he’d never understand it, but only because they are still yearlings, happy and bold, and relationships beyond their own of brother and sister are of no concern to them.

    The bay mare nears them; moss and sleep seem to have been her only companions recently, and she looks bedraggled still, adorned in bits of both - moss here and there, and particles of sleep that cling to her eyelashes. She asks them if something has happened and they share a look with one another, “The earth grew angry and she took everything back but the field, the meadow, and the forest.” Spark is gentle as she says this, but Spear is not as he barges in - “She took more than that though, she took everything from everyone that ever had anything but themselves.”

    Beqanna did not bother them, they were only two horses and the only strangeness to them was the red left eye on the cold and the red right eye on the filly. But they understand the bay mare’s meaning, and they know that she is one of those that had something taken from herself and they can sympathize to an extent, but all they lost was the Tundra.

    ooc: I had originally wanted to post to Sunday's 'any' thread so you get this because I'm slow lol. <3

    Spear & Spark
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    Messages In This Thread
    witchy woman, for Sunday - by Spear + Spark - 09-10-2016, 09:26 AM
    RE: witchy woman, for Sunday - by Sunday - 09-12-2016, 03:47 PM
    RE: witchy woman, for Sunday - by Spear + Spark - 09-12-2016, 08:07 PM
    RE: witchy woman, for Sunday - by Sunday - 09-16-2016, 09:36 AM
    RE: witchy woman, for Sunday - by Spear + Spark - 10-01-2016, 07:57 PM
    RE: witchy woman, for Sunday - by Sunday - 10-06-2016, 07:35 AM



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