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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


    silver rings and gypsy bells; real fire
    #1
    i was born in the arms of imaginary friends,
    free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
    »«


    The girl had blossomed. No longer was there a stubby tail, a spiked mane. In it's place was the flowing platinum of a silk mane. The body having formed and filled out the pale gold coat. She begins her mare-hood journey like the silent bloom of jasmine flowers, fragrant and soft.

    Maribel finds herself in the meadow, journeying from the Tundra for the first time since she was a babe. Daddy Offy was tending to the needs of their home, ruling and so forth. Maribel sought time to herself as her siblings were either grown or too young to play with. Maribel enjoyed her walks. The spring brought forth so many colors and smells, it made the girl dizzy with excitement for the coming year.

    »«





    (its short but it's a start )

    @[Real Fire]
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    #2
    (No html for Real yet so it's just this)
    @[Maribel]

    I had grown so much older - it was odd, how this happened. I simply awoke one day and became old, and soon enough I would become a fully grown mare, ready for my own life. I was wandering away, near the border, and found myself in the Meadow eventually. I had traveled farther than I thought I did.

    As I ventured through the Meadow's broad flats, I came across multiple unfamiliar faces, one speaking a foreign tongue. One of them looked piercingly at me and murmured softly "You will meet whom you have forgotten."

    I wandered again, venturing away from the odd horses around me for an emptier dip. But that is where that statement bourn itself true - I had come across a childhood friend. Maribel? It's me, Real. I said softly as I approached in front of her, stopping at an angle a few feet away.

    We had both filled out, her spiked mane had lengthened. My grew sleek but sparse, that was from my mother. I noticed how she had filled out well; my form was still young and awkward in shape, even if only slightly so.
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