• Logout
  • 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


    Windy Weather; Iri ; Any
    #1
    The boy had no clue how he had gotten here. Foals of all colors, and sizes racing past him. Their mothers standing guard not far off. He however, didnt find a familiar face in the crowd of adults. 


    He was alone.

    A pull dragged him here to the field full of children. Children he could play with , and make friends with. Though Vento found no courage to move from where he stood. His legs were locked, frame wobbling slightly as his muscles grew tired. He found no courage to speak to the other colts. Colts that begged to play, but ran off when he didnt respond. 

    He was like his name. Wind. Quiet but there, and ever so slowly he began to move. His anxiety fading as he found strength to play. To romp around with the others. 

    He jumped, hid, and raced against the others. Ultimately resulting in him having to take a break. His lungs heaved with the weight of his thirst, a smile tugging at his lips.

    With a tired skip in his step he trotted to the stream, ears perked with interest at the sounds around him.

    Su con il sole, andato con il vento.
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)