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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


    rendez-vous and I'm through with you [anyone <3]
    #10
    god make me pay
    like the devil i am
    Cold, dark water kisses his skin as it sheds from her, dampening his pelt. A rumbling thrum of pleasantry resounds in his chest, turning his dark gaze towards her as she comes up beside him. Her own sound hums in her throat as she turns to look at herself, but the stallion has already pressed his damp lips to her smooth, wet skin, lipping at the droplets that still cling to her. It is a subconscious gesture - not in anyway sexual yet - but one that he cannot help, a primal instinct and urge to lick away the priceless water that dampens each curve of her golden flesh, sampling it by sucking gently and urgently, lips rippling in a snarl.

    He decides her company is rather soothing, but that thought quickly dissipates as her shoulder rolls and a loud shout shudders from red and burning vocal cords, a sneer finding his face as he pulls his chin to himself, ears falling into his damp mane. She is at the mouth of his cavern, a black mouth yawning over her head, and he slowly draws himself up beside her, wondering if she could even fathom what rests inside its catacombs. He’s reaching for her again, already dismissing the fact that she’s yelled once more into an empty cave, a smile coyly finding the pale of his cracked lips. “Only your own voice will answer you in there,” he murmurs darkly, knowing that only bones and corpses haunt the bowels of the cave, no living breath but his own find their way out. “...sweetling.” He adds her verbiage with a grin, her next words stop him, shifting his head slightly so that the blackness of his eyes stare into her own.

    “I could tell you,” Maugrim purrs, brushing past her so that the sound of his hooves begin to click onto the smooth stone. “But I have a feeling you like to be shown things.” He then turns and disappears into the darkness, an ear tipped back to listen to the sound of her hooves following him into the nothingness.
    m a u g r i m.


    @[Jackel]
    Big Grin
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: rendez-vous and I'm through with you [anyone &lt;3] - by Maugrim - 05-29-2018, 11:02 AM



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