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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


    we might as well be playing with lightning; elanor
    #1

    We might as well be playing with lightning.
    He was lost in the storm, in the endless roll of thunder, the brilliance of the lightning surging through him and around him. Time had no meaning while the storm built and rain poured down around him, sinking into him and driving away thought and memory. The pulse and flow of energy, the charge building in the air, the crackle of lightning and the crashing waves as thunder radiated out from each bolt, it was all he was. Until it suddenly wasn't.

    His hooves touched earth again, tasted the rain-soaked ground for the first time in ages, and suddenly he was solid and substantial again, something made of flesh and blood and only swathed in thunderclouds. Lightning still danced across his skin, arcing and sizzling and cracking. The scent of burning wood filled the air, and Perun turned his head to watch as a tree split and crashed down around him, bits of wood flying in all directions and somehow missing his body.

    There was something extremely familiar about the pieces of tree flying past him and falling to the ground, and in the surrounding trees that remained intact. Memory shivered at the edges of his awareness, a sheet blowing in the storm but he couldn't quite grasp the billowing edges and hold it down and get a good look. Another storm, and a man from the sky, and—and a little girl tugging on his silvery forelock, waking him up to say hello.

    Ellie.

    Oh, Ellie. Memories filtered back into his awareness, memories of summer sky eyes and skin the color of gentle rainclouds, memories of chasing through pink desert sands and frolicking in an oasis that felt like it was made just for them. Oh, and two little marbles of lightning, given to him by a woman with kind, curious eyes and lightning of her own, one who gave him his very first glimpse of what he could be.

    And another woman, with love in her quaking sparrow heart and written all over her scarred face. Mother, Elsie, frightened of the roll of thunder but welcoming him into her heart all the same. How long, he wondered. How much time had passed while he was lost in a world where time no longer existed, where all that did was the storm. Oh, to hold them again, to be wrapped up in love as he had been wrapped in lightning.

    Yearning caused sparks to dance through his silvered out mane and tail, made it stand just a little of its own accord, static energy repelling the hairs from one another and causing them to levitate just a little. Nothing like the way his fuzzy baby scruff once stood entirely on end, but yearning was a gentler emotion than the stubborn determination, or the dismayed annoyance of a boy who couldn't get sand out of his coat.

    On legs surprisingly steady despite long disuse, Perun set out to scour the earth for his childhood friend, the closest thing he had ever had to family. The storm died down, leaving him behind for the first time in years. He looked over his shoulder, a quiet little rumble of sadness in his throat as they parted. But another storm would come, and he needed to check on the people who had once loved him. Who, he hoped, still did.
    PERUN
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