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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


    Lights will lead into the night with me [Zella]
    #1
    i counted the stars tonight, i gathered them all
    Teeth glisten wet and hungry snapping close enough to her maw that she can smell the rot on its breath. The lower lip drips barely clinging to the blackened gums beneath. The upper lip is completely missing, but before she can look further up the creature, it is gone. The stars come out of nowhere, no. no stars. Her head ducks away, searching the darkness for something else to latch her gaze on. They recede back into the blackness, and in their place something brushes her leg. It’s warm and soft, but the growl says something all together different. A shudder traverses her spine, and her hooves dance away from the warmth.

    Huffing into the darkness she loses track of time, what the hell is going on. For all she knows years could be passing her by, or simply seconds. If someone came up and asked her where she had been before the darkness, she wouldn’t be able to say. Foggy green grass starts to outline itself against the horizon of her vision. Mountains stand guard further back, and still further she can see the moon casting its soft gaze on her. Her own gaze flicks back to the grasses below, no temptation; absolutely not. Feathery lashes spill against her cheeks before they crack open to the night sky. Slightly disoriented she stands to her feet each second that passes another part of that old darkness slips away; the unshakeable feeling of being watched however takes a little more time to wear off.

    Still sharp from youth her hooves dig into the ground for purchase. This is not the meadow she fell asleep in. Whirling around a snarl crinkles her maw. Who stole her willow tree and little nest she had developed beneath it?! Only once before had she been riled, and that time hadn’t ended to well for anyone. The boy had simply been resting, and she came upon him a gangly terror of a filly. Sending him off in tears. Now it wasn’t even taken, or simply smelling differently, it was in fact gone. Simply and utterly gone. Oh, whoever did this was going to pay. It is her spot, her little nest of a home. Tucked away where few tread, and sheltered from the extremes of the seasons, it had been perfect. Had been, now… now she needed to figure out what to do. Her nostrils flare taking in the scents around her, nothing.

    Oricle looks from side of the meadow to the other, its shaped differently. It smells different, the horses are different, and there seems to be more of them. A lot more than she remembered. Disgruntled her fur ruffles and the thick strands of her newly grown tail flips its annoyance. Taking one step then another she steps out from the edge of the forest beginning to take a critical look over those present. Lips press thin in concentration as the bay roan watches them gossip and plot as they always have done. Why do they not see the changes? Are they truly this oblivious to the world around them? Brows furrow as she takes another look around her. She’s pretty sure this isn’t her meadow.
    Oricle
    so will you hold cause time is cold
    but in your soul im standing by

    @[Zella]
    [Image: s3dc3d.png]
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    #2
    i counted the stars tonight, i gathered them all
    She doesn’t notice the little bird at first; too busy riling herself up over her missing nest. There are noises, more intelligent than that of regular animal noises. She knows those noises, knows that they hold meaning, it’s been over a year since they were directed to her. She would listen as others would come close to her nest and speak in hushed tones of silly things. Like how the world was going to shit, and developing plots to change its course. There were a few times that she almost laughed, wanted to tell them how silly they sounded. They can’t change the world, there is nothing they can do to force anyone or anything to bow to them. The world is its own.

    She doesn’t stop to think on what is said to her, she only reacts. The red spotted girl whips her head around gnashing her teeth at nothing in particular, her gangly body following the order of the neck in its unbalanced state. It’s to late stop when the bird that had been out of reach grows larger, changing its shape. This gives her pause, and her silvery eyes look up at the other suspiciously. She’s so small for a two-year-old, thin and delicate, nothing there to show the strength of her will. And how she’s survived this long on it. Watching the shape of the animal change she frowns in concentration. No, this is lost. a nod to where her nest should be, where she had woken from her nightmare. She fell asleep in her meadow, it’s the meadows fault that she isn’t still there tucked safe in her precious nest of pine branches, and berry bushes.

    She returns to glaring at the woman, father? That’s a new one for her, what’s a father? Does she have a mother? That is hard to say, she had a mother, a mother who told her that the stars don’t like it when you make them do things. A mother who gave her a meal, so she might survive and left her. Indignant at only god knows what she holds her head up and stares boldly at the other. I have a mother, doesn’t everyone; as if anything could ever be wrong with leaving an infant to fend for themselves. Don’t all mothers do that? The real pride breaker though is when the question of a father burns through her mind, sticking in her throat until she must vomit it out, to her chagrin. What’s a father?

    Oricle looks over the woman the scar of her mother’s bite on her shoulder twitching in irritation as it often does when she knows she shouldn’t be talking like this. She looks back to the place that she had woken up in. The filly never liked feeling vulnerable, the adult male whom she had, had words with brought this about in her. Something seemed wrong about him, the way he would look at her, talk to her. As if she wasn’t a filly at all, but some sort of plaything for his amusement. He’d not touched her in that way, but it would have come as no surprise if he had tried. There was just something off about that creature. Then again mother had called her special, had named her to set her apart from the world, and maybe that was what had attracted the unsavory personality. That thing she has that has no definition, but is nicely wrapped up in her name.
    Oricle
    so will you hold cause time is cold
    but in your soul im standing by

    @[Caw]
    [Image: s3dc3d.png]
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    #3
    i counted the stars tonight, i gathered them all
    The mare counters her statement, lips purse in thought, but only for a moment. Then how are they born? Smugly the retort tumbles out. She’d already watched the process as homeless mares have a tendency to get knocked up and pop out little ones, and what else is there to do in the meadow? She thinks this is outlandish, impossible even that not everyone has a mother. Completely missing the connotation behind the words in her want to push the mare away and out of her space. She’s not leaving! Her brows furrow and if she were a dog her hackles would be painfully raised right now. Nothing is working! She’s got half a mind to bite the woman regardless of size difference or lack of outcome. However, Caw looks like she is enjoying this with the filly, and Ori, most definitely is on the opposite side of the fence on that, standing toe to toe against the mare.

    The lady begins to move, and Oricle flattens her ears and tail. She can’t see the woman unless she turns her neck, and this right now, her pride won’t allow. She glances to the stars half tempted to use them to find her mother. Just so that she can tell this mare and send her on her way. A small softly lit star shape forms in front of her face before it quickly dissipates shimmering in its fall to earth. Ohhh shit! Nervously she glances around searching for the bad thing that would happen to her for calling the star from it’s home. Icy eyes turn down to the ground once more. Forcing herself not to look up and accidently do this again. S-she’s Ori can’t bring herself to say the words, to tell the mare that she doesn’t know where mother is. And if she lies… well that’ll be doubly bad when the bad thing comes for her.

    The roan girl listens to the description of a father wrinkling her nose and proudly saying I don’t want one of those, she doesn’t know how much her father would have cared for her if he knew. Sadly he doesn’t even know she exists. A son in the cult of Kirin, he knows the importance of family, especially family with her gifts. She would have been treasured, doted on, and loved as a filly perfectly made as she should be. A perfect mix of both parents. Roaning from her father, red from her mother, gifts from both equally divided and mixed. If only Raelynx had met his great granddaughter. Or Anyx her granddaughter. But such is life, and the side of the family that would have treated her as a princess is gone, dispersed at the change of the world, Arx, her father simply wandering, waiting for the orders that will never come. So here she stands, oblivious to what could have been, and oblivious to what is. Believing the stars are forced to talk to her, and that they hate her.

    A better mother? TWO fathers?! She frowns concentrating, when she feels the other looking at her. Ori looks up her pale eyes focusing on the mare and not the sky behind Caw. She seems okay… sort of. Other than the fact that she won’t leave Oricle alone. But fathers, if they are like mothers….

    She’s easily distracted by the boy and flips her ears against her skull once more. Baring her teeth at him. He dwarfs her in comparison. Suddenly she doesn’t feel so ferocious with two large creatures in front of her. Something inside her says to cower and hide, and without realizing it she cloaks herself making it difficult to focus on her form for a moment. It’s weak, as there are no shadows for her to melt into, and the twilight is thin at this time.  Caw She tests the name.

    Turning to the boy stepping closer so that she is practically touching noses with her head held high she tests out his name Plague. They are rather fun to say. She turns so that she can stand next to him, mimicking his stance and comparing herself to him.
    Oricle
    so will you hold cause time is cold
    but in your soul im standing by

    @[Caw] fathers <3
    [Image: s3dc3d.png]
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