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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


    dry eyes in the pouring rain || sabra & any
    #1
    we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
    Traveling from the forest to Sylva had been easier on his mind than it had begun, and though Amorette and the Overseer are back in good grace’s with each other, there is still a solemnity that permeates the air, though the winged bay is quick to assure the dark mare with tender smiles and quiet laughs.

    Warrick’s soul was born gentle and he continues to desperately cling to that knowledge. He tells himself that he is still the young stallion from ages ago, full of adventurous wonder and hope, but the weariness etched on his auburn face tells a different story. It is becoming too much for him to bear, the load far too laden with unrequited prayers and pleas shouted at the heavens. He’s unsure how much more he can carry; he feels stretched thin and even frail, like at any moment he could simply collapse from exhaustion. There is so much veiled in his blue eyes, the depression nearly tangible if he ever decided to show even just a hint of his pain.

    He is gentle. Too gentle for the grief that covers him, that drips across his mind and soul like thick, waxy oil inside him. But he is also strong; it was his misery and his alone. It will be his until the stars rain down from the sky.

    Cobalt-tipped ears flick as the sounds of crickets as well as other nocturnal creatures begin to fill the silent woods. It is nearly dusk when they arrives on the borders, though darkness has already coated the area; the thickness of the foliage above them kept most of the final rays of sunlight from touching the ground. With the sun’s finishing light, the world around him bathes in a golden glow, dipped in honey. He halts, no longer exploring or navigating. He is merely listening, soaking in the quiet atmosphere as thoughts tumultuously churn in his mind like aggravated seas, in hopes that even just for a moment, they would cease.

    The Overseer knows it will not be Ellyse that greets him. He unknowingly holds his breath, wondering if the realization has truly hit him yet.
    Warrick


    @[Amorette] @[Sabra]
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    dry eyes in the pouring rain || sabra & any - by Warrick - 02-24-2018, 09:41 AM



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