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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


    lost to the hunt as I was to you; pyxis, malis
    #1
    Each day, the wolves searched. Days became weeks, and seasons changed; still, Daemron kept them hunting. Not for sustenance – (not like before) – and yet they scoured relentlessly, bound and driven by the iron of his will. In the evenings, the chestnut stallion met with the red wolf. He would look into her keen eyes and know that their searching had yielded nothing. Then, after briefly sharing breath, they would part ways once more.

    Each night, he came back to Pyxis.

    Time after time, whether stars wheeled overhead or whether they succumbed to darkness, he was by her side. Ever since she’d asked it of him on the night of their reunion, no matter the hour, Daemron would find her – and when each morning came, he was there.

    He would watch the sunrise through the ocean of her eyes as they opened. He would touch her hair with a sound low in his throat. He would feel the warmth of her skin against his and wonder at how it made his world tilt every time. While some part of Daemron still worries that she will run (that his world will cease to exist), he has become acclimated to her presence. He would breathe her in, knowing full well that she was his oxygen now.  

    And when he left, he would count each second until they could be together again.

    This morning, however, was different. He had come to her the evening before as he always did, but the grey of his eyes had been afire with the wolves’ discovery. ‘They found someone,’ he’d told her then – and they had journeyed through the night, following in the shadow of the maned wolf who led the way through the dark.

    Now, through the trees ahead and in the dawning summer light, Red slows. Turning his willowed head to press a steadying touch to Pyxis’ side, Daemron’s gravelly voice murmurs, “We’re close.” There is a rush in his veins, but he takes the surge of adrenaline in stride. The stallion doesn’t know what to expect from this encounter, but it doesn’t matter – all that matters is that he is here for her (as he always would be).

    daemron
    lost to the hunt as I was to you

    @laura @jenger hope this works for you guys, let me know if there's anything I should change <333
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    #2

    she'll lie and steal and cheat and beg you from her knees
    make you thinks she means it this time

    Hope is a dangerous thing. It flutters in her throat, presses against her bones, turning the insides of her into a softness she doesn’t recognize. She wakes each morning by his side and even though the happiness of it turns her golden, she still finds herself surprised that she doesn’t feel the need to run. She doesn’t feel the need to flee. Instead she finds herself grow languid in the moments, pressing her lips dreamily to his jaw, nestling further still, wondering how long they can lay together before they need to go.

    Today was different though.

    Today, she wanted to get up. Wanted to pierce this bubble that contains them.

    She is eager but she tries to hide it, tries to keep the hope from her eyes. She just grows quiet, the seriousness of it radiating from her. She remains quiet as they get up, shaking the slumber and the forest from her coat. She remains quiet as they venture forth, flanked by some wolves and following the path that they had been predestined to follow. She presses her nose into the warmth of muscle on his shoulder, the only sign she can give to the internal war that rages within her, the hope—the fear.

    She withdraws it soon though and instead chooses to walk silently by his side, her mottled lips pressed close together, antlered head lowered as she smells the earth and the wind, as if she would have any ability to track the family of hers so broken up and spread far and wide across Beqanna.

    It felt good to try though.

    When he finally breaks the silence, she angles her head toward him, ocean eyes wide and vulnerable before him. She tries to brush off the fear, whispering. “This is silly. I don’t even know why we’re trying.” But she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes on a sigh. “I’m scared, Daemron.”

    she'll tear a hole in you, the one you can't repair
    but I still love her, I don't really care



    @[Daemron] @[jenger]
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