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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


    [private]  give me something to keep my mind off this so-called life
    #11

    Her question stumps him.

    He should have been little more than a skeleton when he’d fought his way back to the surface, but for some reason, he was relatively whole when he’d emerged from what should have been his watery grave. He remembers being ravenous and parched, his throat and lungs burnt with salt, his muscles exceedingly fatigued from the long swim. But how did he survive?

    “I don’t know.”

    “I was aware of most of it, but I had no idea how much time was passing while I was there. For the most part, I couldn’t move very much. Every so often, an earthquake would push me deeper into the ground. But I’m told there was a very large one not too long ago, the one that sank most of Beqanna’s old lands into the sea. Well, that one finally set me free.. but then I had to deal with the sea rushing into the widened space. So, I can’t say that I’m unhappy to see all of the water receding from here.”

    Never a truer word has he ever spoken. He certainly would be just fine if the sea never bothered him again. But he says nothing more of it as he quietly accepts his invitation to walk through the meadow, despite her beeline toward one of the creeks cutting through the grasses. He listens quietly as she presents her positive spin on his long life, and he is not sure he agrees with her assessment.

    “I haven’t much to teach, I’m afraid. I’m fairly simpleminded in the grand scheme of things.”

    He means to say more, but she takes the brief silence to ask another question and it sends his thoughts spiraling through yet another abyss. Love. Certainly the memory of Demise has not left him, nor does it seem likely that it ever will.. but did he love her? Had he ever?

    “We were both young and ignorant. She would have been glad to see the world burn in her hand, but she was always my favorite because she would have done anything I asked. What we had was unconventional, to say the least. It was chaotic, pleasure-driven devilry.”

    In large, he is unwilling to explore the matter any further, but there is a small piece that remains dissatisfied with the answer he gives. It knows that, however demented it may have been, there was love between the two. Still, the rest of his core clings to its need to remain detached and unemotional, so the declaration remains unspoken.

    So, he lets the topic go, lets it drift away as haplessly as a fallen leaf in the current she now steps into. He watches her enter the water and makes no moves to follow, content to stand at the bank as she refreshes herself in the cool ripples. He sees the sensibility in her views on magic and its hand in how wars are fought these days. He remembers the playful fights of his childhood, remembers watching skirmishes from afar, remembers the raw, primal feelings roused by the physicality of it all.

    Something in her tone pleases him immensely when she voices her contentment in his company. Perhaps it simply appeals to his former status as a herd stallion, to the deep-seated need to have his ego stroked by a subservient supplication for the masculinity he projects. Whatever it is, it creates a faint smile.

    “I would say that we are no longer strangers, so it should not be so difficult in the future.”

    But there is something else that throbs in the back of his mind. An image that had bloomed as he recalled his time with Demise, an image that lingers now as he looks at Famkee. A soft, but persistent breeze of guilt caresses his skin as tangibly as the sweet fingers of the meadow’s air tangle themselves in his mane.

    “I have been considering going to at least one of the ‘new’ lands.. would you be interested in going as well?”

    The feeling of guilt strengthens as he pauses to hear her answer then continues, “But I must go back to the forest first, so I’m not yet sure where I will end up..”

    Inspirations strikes quickly though, and he perhaps it will soften the blow of the indication that he will have to withdraw his presence when they’ve just begun growing comfortable with each other. He steps into the water to close the space between them.

    “Perhaps this could be an opportunity for you to test your clairvoyance?” He shakes out his wings and one curls toward her, the tips of its feathers gently indulging her fantasy as they brush along her neck. “In the meantime, I can test these out too.”

    He backs away to spread his wings to their full breadth, his features arranged in what he believes to be a warm invitation.

    “Come find me.”

    And before she can respond, his takes off in an ungainly manner that greatly contrasts his natural refinement.

    know thyself
    ASSAILANT,
    --plato
    image by LeonovichDmitriy
    @Famkee I figured you could just start a new thread in the Dale, yeah? :)
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