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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


    [open]  i'm waking up, i feel it in my bones; any.
    #1

     
    He has been a hermit. Quietly living an existence that does not affect the outside world. Likewise, he has not been affected by them. He has pushed against the constraints of society, and lived life quietly.
     
    Peacefully.
     
    And he can tell that it is coming to an end.
     
    Fuck, he mutters to himself, rolling his eyes as he stretches out his black body. Long and lean, he has subsisted his diet on roots and treebark. Skin stays stretched tightly across his body, and his muscles are well defined—but he is lithe and fluid. But his pelt… his skin is unkempt and his pelt is messy from lack of care. Seed pods, tangles, and patches of mud and other stuff collects there, and his hair is tangled, laying in thick strings of yarn across his neck and down his back.
     
    He stretches again, his neck cracking in several places as he contorts his body unnaturally. Cautiously, he leaves the safety of his lean-to… and enters the meadow with wary eyes. Hopeing to avoid any social entaglements, he flicks his tail, wincing as it slaps his side. Maybe a bath was in order…
     
    Maybe not.
     
    He lowers his head, sampling the clover blossoms that were so plentiful during high summer.
     
    Something other than fucking tree bark.
     
     
    THIAGO
    here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
    HTML by Call
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    #2

    Delicate things are pretty - cute, even,
    but you are not delicate.
    You are wild and lewd and unpredictable.
    You are breathtaking.
    You are beautiful.

    I had grown, as children are wont to do. Grown into a fine young woman, the right curves in all the right places, and a lovely, glossy coat of marbled gold and white and black. Indeed, one could almost mistake me for just another normal, pleasant, pretty young lady, if not for one thing. One small, teeny tiny detail.

    I have an extra eye.

    I love it, but I learned a long time ago that not everyone does. Freak, I have been called. Strange. Unsightly. All these words and more. But I am none of these things, I promise you. I am beautiful and all-seeing. Or nearly so, at least.

    Someday, I will find someone who sees it as I do. I keep hope, because what else can I do? And perhaps today is that today. Because there, just ahead, is a young stallion. Black and red and decidedly handsome.

    I am not a shy woman, so I approach, of course. Even the muttered curses cannot put me off, not today. “Hello darling,” I drawl, blinking my three eyes, all a lovely shade of pale amber, as I saunter forward. “I say, it’s been quiet around here lately, care for some company?” With a winsome smile, I add a hopeful, “I’m Giohde, by the way.”

    Giohde

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    #3

    He had heard her speak. He ignored her. I mean, dammit woman, he’s eating. No one comes between a man, his empty stomach, and the foot he is trying to consume. I mean, he’s been eating treebark. You did read that, yes? Tree bark is not so tasty. It’s why he’s so skinny. I mean. I used perty words to describe his litheness… but dude, he’s skinny. Very. Skinny. He needs nourishment.

    So when Thiago hears her voice, he flicks his black tail around his body, his red socks taking nary a step in the opposite direction from where he heard her voice, and yet, despite his eating, he finds that his ears are turned to her body, attuning himself to her presence… because.. well. Girl.

    He likes girls. I think. I haven’t figured it out yet. Let’s just say he probably likes girls.

    Anyway, he’s chewing his last bits of his meal, and its impolite to talk with a full mouth, and so it is a few minutes before he has masticated his food well enough to be able to successfully swallow.. because, dude has a gag reflex…

    Oh. Okay. He likes girls. There we go.

    Anyway. He steps towards her, looking at her, and he smiles, and while he thinks that he’s being suave, he really looks like a constipated baby. That grimace.. its sort of a smile, but he stinks. Don’t give up on him. He’s got social anxiety. So much so, infact that he does not see the third eye on her forehead. Does not even recognize it as a bit of being strange.

    He feels he’s strange enough for them both. Grown ass man who turns into a freaking bunny..

    I mean, what the hell man?!

    “Thiago. Yes. It is quiet.” He states the facts. He does not expound. Unlike Krys, who makes Spink word vomit.

    :/ Why can’t there be moe short posts inthis world? I have no idea. Oh well.

    THIAGO
    here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
    HTML by Call
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    #4

    Delicate things are pretty - cute, even,
    but you are not delicate.
    You are wild and lewd and unpredictable.
    You are breathtaking.
    You are beautiful.

    Oh dear, not a very chatty one, is he? Oh well, I’m certain I can more than make up for it. Of course, I had rather interrupted him in the middle of eating. That was rather rude of me. Normally I’m not so rude, but I just go so excited I suppose. It’s been awhile since I had anyone interesting to talk to. And he seems so very interesting.

    He does have those lovely colors. That red that contrasts so vibrantly against the black. I suppose, ultimately, my colors are rather boring. It is quite fortunate that I am not a vain woman. It would be so terribly disappointing otherwise to be surrounded by all these lovely colors that will never adorn my flesh. The golden brown and white is lovely enough, contrasting nicely with the black. But it is a bit standard in the end.

    This guy though, he’s anything but standard. Even if he doesn’t have the best verbal skills I’ve ever seen. Or rather, heard. Maybe, with a little coaxing, I can do something about that though.

    I smile at his greeting, soft and just a bit sultry, before slipping closer, batting my three eyes for best effect. “Thiago,” I murmur as my odd gaze seeks out his. “What an interesting name. So tell me, dear Thiago, where are you from? Anywhere interesting?”

    Giohde



    Hah. Oh my
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    #5

    Thiago gulped down his food, and stepped back, his ears pinning back to the back of his head as he eyes her….her eyes. Thiago’s head is pulled into his neck and he looks as if he is sinking into the ground, resting his weight against his back haunches. She bats those three eyes—interesting that, and quite distracting. He gulps again as he barely hears her speak. She seems so…interested in him. Why? He’s not interesting.

    He’s very. very boring.

    And yet, she keeps speaking, and he feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into the grasses of the meadow, wishing he could burrow himself. Alas, those days are behind him. Damn. Those moments that he could really use his abilities. Still, she’s pretty enough, and he feels himself twitching slightly. He’d have to be a eunuch not to know what time of the year this was. He was a man, and we have established that he likes girls. Even if he doesn’t know how to…well. How to talk to them..

    At all. About anything.

    So he swallows again, air and spit sliding down his throat as nervousness presents itself as beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face. “I. Um. I am from...over there,” he splutters, unsure of how to continue. How interesting can he be? A pathetic little lean-to in the forest.

    What a joke.

    THIAGO
    here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
    HTML by Call
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    #6

    Delicate things are pretty - cute, even,
    but you are not delicate.
    You are wild and lewd and unpredictable.
    You are breathtaking.
    You are beautiful.

    Oh no. Oh no no no. I seem to have scared him somehow. I am not a frightening woman. Really, not even a little. I am gentle and kind, a benevolent overseer. Sure, I have that third eye. I can see more than most, but it's nothing terrifying. Truly.

    Unfortunately, he does not seem to think so. The way that he shrinks from me gives me pause. He almost looks as though he might flip over backwards (for a moment, the thought of such an occurrence makes my lips twitch, but I quickly control it. It simply would not do for me to dissolve into laughter, especially at his expense. Not to mention cruel, and as I may have already mentioned, I am not cruel).

    Instead I release a soft, breathy sigh, my smile expanding upon my lips. I sidle just a bit closer, ducking my head so I can glance at him through my lashes in a more demure manner.

    “Over there?” I ask, gaze flicking briefly around, as though I might find where ‘over there’ meant. “In the... grass? I mean, that seems a bit… exposed, doesn't it? Is there someone that, er, stays with you?”

    Surely I must have been mistaken.

    Giohde



    Ahahaha, I have no clue what this is :|
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    #7

    He saw her duck her head, non threateningly, and shuttered her eyes to make herself more sexy. He saw that. He liked it.

    He panicked.

    Shifting his weight in the dirt, Thiago looked at Giohde with an interest that was neither interesting, nor sexual, but in all interest, he was not sure what he felt. He's never sure of anything. Welcome to social anxiety 101. You never know what you're feeling until you're feeling it. He felt the grasses tickling his sides, and he itched his belly with his back feet, flashing those red socks again. Except, he had so much weight on his back haunches, that when he lifted one of those back legs, Thiago summarily landed on his behind with a rather impressive thump that sent the air rushing right out of his lungs. He lay there, on the ground in a heaving pile of mess. He speaks, straining for words, as if he was trying to take a big massive crap. Except, that while he probably looked like he was, he was in fact just laying in a pile on the floor of the meadow.

    "In the...forest. I...don't like...crowds."

    He is still heaving, when he feels something else. a spider crawling up his backside. He shudders, making a visible trembling motion with his butt. He HATES spiders. He thinks he has heard the lady speaking of someone.. living with him? Thiago tries to laugh, but it comes out as nothing more than more forced air. And he finds, that there on the ground, with his digestive system squished, he does the unthinkable.

    He farts.

    If there was a more socially challenged man, I dare you to find him.

    He turns his head away from Giohde, trying to hide his embarrasment.

    He fails.

    "No. No one lives with me. Though I'm sure by now, you understand why."

    THIAGO
    here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
    HTML by Call
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    #8

    Delicate things are pretty - cute, even,
    but you are not delicate.
    You are wild and lewd and unpredictable.
    You are breathtaking.
    You are beautiful.

    The forest makes much more sense. I should have guessed, especially given the way he continues to shrink from me. Shifting away so much he lands with a thump upon the grass, his bum tucked up under him in what looks to be the most uncomfortable manner. I lift my head abruptly, eyes flying wide at the sudden way in which he plops upon the ground in such an inelegant way.

    For a moment, I simply stare at him, smile frozen upon my lips. I’m really just not quite sure what to make of this fellow. He seems nice enough, friendly. But he also seems to want nothing to do with me. Tilting my head, I consider him for a moment before a low, ‘hmm’ vibrates past my lips. “The forest. Oh yes, that definitely make more sense.”

    But then, just as I have gotten the words past my lips, he does something entirely and completely unexpected. He farts. Right there. In the middle of the conversation. And then, he proceeds to act as though it had not happened.

    My mouth falls open as I stare at him, entirely unknown to me. When I realize I am gaping, I snap it shut. And then I do something even worse. Something that can surely only compound the situation. I giggle.

    The first laugh escapes my lips entirely unexpectedly. If I’d had hands, I would have clapped them over my mouth. As it is, I clamp my lips tightly shut, doing my very best to hide the sudden mirth lighting my odd gaze. But it simply is not enough. Soon I am nearly hunched over, unable to contain the giggles that are determined to spew from my mouth.

    I mean, you have to admit, it is rather hilarious.

    Finally, gasping, I manage to gain control of myself. Tears in my eyes, I puff a halting apology. “I… am so… sorry. But that… was just too… funny.”

    Then, swinging my butt around, I plop down next to him in perhaps the most graceless manner I have ever used. It’s awkward and a bit uncomfortable, but even that cannot force me to contain the grin that now splits my features. Looking at him, I finally exclaim, “I think you and I are going to be great friends, Thiago.”

    Giohde

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    #9

    Thiago got up on his forehand, shook the dust and the grass from his body, and attempted to put his posture to rights. He watched her plop down into the dirt beside them, and he relaxed somewhat. Two grown equines, sitting in the dirt, positioned like bird dogs at the ready. It was a bit preposterous. But still, Thiago shook out his head and gave the multi-colored girl the (third) eye. After all, this was a pretty lady, and this was breeding season. And he likes Girls.

    He likes Giohde..

    But when she laughs at him, he immediately looks away, into his shoulder as if being a shy debutante. Because that is the way Thiago shows that he’s shy or embarrassed. I don’t know why. It just is. I think you and I are going to be great friends, Thiago.

    Just the sound of his name on her lips is a thing of wonder. Normally he’d be in his lean-to sobbing over a pint of dirty water. Or something. The fact that she was just strange enough to appreciate his strangeness…

    It was nice.

    It was unusual.

    But it was very nice.

    And so Thiago looks back at her, suddenly feeling brave enough to ask the question. “So, what’s with the eye?”

    D’oh. So close, Thiago.

    So close.

    But you flunk charm school.

    THIAGO
    here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
    HTML by Call
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    #10

    Delicate things are pretty - cute, even,
    but you are not delicate.
    You are wild and lewd and unpredictable.
    You are breathtaking.
    You are beautiful.

    I did not wake up today expecting to end up plopped on my bum next to another horse. But then, life seems determined to prove one should always expect the unexpected. In this case, the unexpected seems to be me, on my butt, next to a young stallion with no social graces to speak of, and being rather charmed by him nonetheless.

    Fortunately for him, I am the opposite of shy. The perfect yin and yang. Or something like that. I'm not sure it's quite so elegant or spiritual as all that, but close enough.

    So instead of withdrawing when he suddenly reverts to shy behaviour, I stretch my nose out and nudge his shoulder gently. My lips quirked into a wry grin, I nibble playfully before withdrawing, a faint twinkle in my eye.

    His next question takes me back a bit, though perhaps I should have expected it. But really, it doesn't seem to be that big of a deal. Not to me, at least. Of course, I live with it every day and I know the benefits. And really, if curiosity is a crime, I'm super guilty.

    “Well, it's just a thing, like a horn. Except, it's an eye.” I shrug, recognizing I'm probably not making myself very clear. “I was born with it, I mean. don't you have anything different you were born with?”

    Giohde

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