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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: Tannor
    #1

    She huffs storming her way around beqanna. What the hell was she thinking? He had left just as she started getting cozy, oh well guess he couldn't handle the heat. She can't help a smirk as she holds her neck up high, talking to herself agian, consoling her broken pride.

    Wandering through the forest seemed like a good idea at the time, but now the narly roots were looking large and menasing. She shivers and rolls it off her shoulders. Yellow eyes glinting in the streaks of daylight peaking through the leaves.

    Plodding along she can't help but let out a string of curses, along with a few choice words about how she needed a good fuck and needed it now. How that would always make things better. Take the edge of things and hope to set the world straight. Kick back relax, enjoy the moment.

    The black striped, white mare... or was it white striped black mare? I guess its what ever version of the cup that you enjoy that sets the veiw. Preferance being dark or light, she herself didn't give a damn. Never would, all that mattered was that she was the only black and white damn horse in all of beqanna..... except that son of hers.... one that she doesn't recollect on how he came to be, or how on earth she came to have him.

    That still irked her... yes another horse running around looking EXACTLY like her? Its unacceptable, an abomination. Completely and totally irrevicably a horror of horror. And one that she had no control over. fuck She couldn't help it, whatever was going on in her head had to come out sometime. Today might as well be the day. She stamps her hoof smaking her tail against her lusty haunches.

    Teak

    The world is not all black and white

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