01-08-2020, 11:46 PM
<center><img src="https://www.darkbeautymag.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Jiamin-Zhu-jajasgarden-ig-tb-tw-same-Michelle-Green-ig-michelle.green_.87-h-Matt-Lawrence-ig-makahmatt-mua-Liz-Kiss-ig-lizkiss02-jwl-crw-Namiko-Abloom-namikoabloom-ig-same-Amphitrite.jpg" width=600 style="border-top-left-radius:50%;border-top-right-radius:50%"><center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Marcellus+SC' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><table width="600" bgcolor="46535B" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="10"><tr><td><center><table width="500" bgcolor="46535B" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tr><td><center><font size="1" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:14pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">An old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind
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<table width="500" bgcolor="6D9394" style="border-color: 3e3f68; border-width: 1px; border-style: solid;" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="8"><tr><td><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman" size="2" color="384556">
The pain finally subsides, the throbbing in her head dulled as the minutes melt away. Nothing else happens, not at first. Overhead, the sun glares at her and catches the gunmetal blue of her coat. Eyes that match her body look around in quiet wait, her mind wandering to reasons why she is here and why there are antlers twisting up from her skull.
With a sigh, she steers away from the pillars and turns her attention toward the horizon.
But it’s when she has her back turned and her guard down that the silence is broken and the solitude ripped from her.
The thunderous footsteps are somehow familiar and it forces Cyprin to abruptly whip around. The figure halts, dust curling around his legs. <i>”Bronsonn,”</i> she breathes with the birth of a smile on her lips, relief mounting at the sight of him until she notices the stoicism of his face and hollowness of his eyes. <i>”Bron…?”</i> Her voice rises in question and her head tilts slightly to the side. Fear climbs her throat, choking her. He does not answer her, not verbally at least. A snort is the only response followed by a rear that cements the realization that this cannot be her twin, not truly. They care for one another, love each other.
Bronsonn charges feverishly toward her, raising the dirt around him again. Cyprin doesn’t want this to be real, to see her brother seek to destroy her, but she cannot – will not – sit idle. Although sweet, she is not weak. They have the same passion in their blood, the same ferocity. Instinctively, Cyprin readies herself, her defense being only the antlers on her head. He isn’t so foolish to run straight into them, instead taking an opportunity to veer and kick out. His hooves make contact on the right side of her neck. It’s the first time she has ever been hit, and it startles her before the pain sinks in and throbs. A gasp of air catches in her throat when she stumbles to her left. Having the horns offsets her balance as well, but she regains it with dignity, staring at her sibling defiantly.
Her heart wants to speak to him and ease the rage bursting in him, but he is too far gone. Fear grips her.
Fight or flight.
Cyprin faces Bronsonn again, but he is already rearing and lashing toward her, scraping her face with a flailing hoof. A scream escapes her then, an unintentional response as she staggers back again, but this time with fire in her eyes.
She is prepared to retaliate and lunge toward him, but there is a deafening crack, then eerie pops. A growl. A hiss.
<i>”No…”</i> she murmurs to herself as Bronsonn shifts into his draconic form, punctuating the transition with a roar that trembles the entire dome. Flames flare from his mouth toward the open space above them, and Cyprin seizes the opportunity to flee to his backside. His tail whips, knocking her over effortlessly. Rivulets of blood wind down her right side when she finally stands, rocks having punctured her skin. There’s nothing she can do to defeat a dragon. Her only advantage is her agility and small size to weave, but there is nothing helping her in this dome.
Bronsonn swerves to face her, and Cyprin simply kicks at his claw. It triggers a snarling response and a snap of his jaws, but there isn’t great success or luck. She could weave among his legs, but it would only drain her own energy. His name caresses her tongue, waiting to be heard, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Cyprin’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and so she closes it again just as his head snakes to tower above her.
They spar, but it is greatly Cyprin attempting to dodge and gaining more scrapes and bruises while Bronsonn remains unscathed.
It seems like hours, but perhaps it has only been minutes; nonetheless, exhaustion wracks through her. In Bronsonn’s primal aggression, he considers his twin a meal. She is done, he tells himself as he hovers above her with his neck arched like a serpent. Cyprin stares up, panting from having attempted multiple times to gouge him with her horns or kick. Her lungs scream from the exertion and her mind fumbles to react.
Her body resigns to him, at a loss.
<i>”I’m a dragon, too”</i> just by blood, but nothing more. It doesn’t matter, but she doesn’t want to cower in the face of loss. She stands proudly, counting the seconds until her world turns black and she no longer experiences pain. Not even a goodbye or words of finality. Cyprin simply succumbs to fate. Her eyes drift shut as Bronsonn lunges forward, his mouths widely agape.
But then she takes another breath.
How? She should be dead?
There is an ear shattering scream that makes her recoil, but she is stuck, her head unable to move.
When her eyes open – when did she close them? – she is staring down Bronsonn’s throat. Above her is the roof of his mouth, deeply punctured by her horns. When he tries withdrawing, she presses further, deepening the gouges.
Cyprin is unsure how deep her horns pierced into his skull, what they may have hit or destroyed. Flames begin to roll from her sibling’s maw, tearing into her skin until it halts only a second later. Their screams mingle together as she pulls herself from their predicament, stumbling and falling backward in pain.
And then there is silence.
Cyprin blinks away the tears as she watches the life slowly leave Bronsonn’s eyes.
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<center><font size="2" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:8px;line-height:10pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">Cyprin
<font size="1" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:14pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">lior and nayl</font></center></td></tr></table></center></center>
<center><font face="times" size="1" color="black" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:9pt">picture by Jiamin Zhu on pinterest
</font></center>
935 words
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<table width="500" bgcolor="6D9394" style="border-color: 3e3f68; border-width: 1px; border-style: solid;" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="8"><tr><td><div align="justify"><font face="times new roman" size="2" color="384556">
The pain finally subsides, the throbbing in her head dulled as the minutes melt away. Nothing else happens, not at first. Overhead, the sun glares at her and catches the gunmetal blue of her coat. Eyes that match her body look around in quiet wait, her mind wandering to reasons why she is here and why there are antlers twisting up from her skull.
With a sigh, she steers away from the pillars and turns her attention toward the horizon.
But it’s when she has her back turned and her guard down that the silence is broken and the solitude ripped from her.
The thunderous footsteps are somehow familiar and it forces Cyprin to abruptly whip around. The figure halts, dust curling around his legs. <i>”Bronsonn,”</i> she breathes with the birth of a smile on her lips, relief mounting at the sight of him until she notices the stoicism of his face and hollowness of his eyes. <i>”Bron…?”</i> Her voice rises in question and her head tilts slightly to the side. Fear climbs her throat, choking her. He does not answer her, not verbally at least. A snort is the only response followed by a rear that cements the realization that this cannot be her twin, not truly. They care for one another, love each other.
Bronsonn charges feverishly toward her, raising the dirt around him again. Cyprin doesn’t want this to be real, to see her brother seek to destroy her, but she cannot – will not – sit idle. Although sweet, she is not weak. They have the same passion in their blood, the same ferocity. Instinctively, Cyprin readies herself, her defense being only the antlers on her head. He isn’t so foolish to run straight into them, instead taking an opportunity to veer and kick out. His hooves make contact on the right side of her neck. It’s the first time she has ever been hit, and it startles her before the pain sinks in and throbs. A gasp of air catches in her throat when she stumbles to her left. Having the horns offsets her balance as well, but she regains it with dignity, staring at her sibling defiantly.
Her heart wants to speak to him and ease the rage bursting in him, but he is too far gone. Fear grips her.
Fight or flight.
Cyprin faces Bronsonn again, but he is already rearing and lashing toward her, scraping her face with a flailing hoof. A scream escapes her then, an unintentional response as she staggers back again, but this time with fire in her eyes.
She is prepared to retaliate and lunge toward him, but there is a deafening crack, then eerie pops. A growl. A hiss.
<i>”No…”</i> she murmurs to herself as Bronsonn shifts into his draconic form, punctuating the transition with a roar that trembles the entire dome. Flames flare from his mouth toward the open space above them, and Cyprin seizes the opportunity to flee to his backside. His tail whips, knocking her over effortlessly. Rivulets of blood wind down her right side when she finally stands, rocks having punctured her skin. There’s nothing she can do to defeat a dragon. Her only advantage is her agility and small size to weave, but there is nothing helping her in this dome.
Bronsonn swerves to face her, and Cyprin simply kicks at his claw. It triggers a snarling response and a snap of his jaws, but there isn’t great success or luck. She could weave among his legs, but it would only drain her own energy. His name caresses her tongue, waiting to be heard, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Cyprin’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and so she closes it again just as his head snakes to tower above her.
They spar, but it is greatly Cyprin attempting to dodge and gaining more scrapes and bruises while Bronsonn remains unscathed.
It seems like hours, but perhaps it has only been minutes; nonetheless, exhaustion wracks through her. In Bronsonn’s primal aggression, he considers his twin a meal. She is done, he tells himself as he hovers above her with his neck arched like a serpent. Cyprin stares up, panting from having attempted multiple times to gouge him with her horns or kick. Her lungs scream from the exertion and her mind fumbles to react.
Her body resigns to him, at a loss.
<i>”I’m a dragon, too”</i> just by blood, but nothing more. It doesn’t matter, but she doesn’t want to cower in the face of loss. She stands proudly, counting the seconds until her world turns black and she no longer experiences pain. Not even a goodbye or words of finality. Cyprin simply succumbs to fate. Her eyes drift shut as Bronsonn lunges forward, his mouths widely agape.
But then she takes another breath.
How? She should be dead?
There is an ear shattering scream that makes her recoil, but she is stuck, her head unable to move.
When her eyes open – when did she close them? – she is staring down Bronsonn’s throat. Above her is the roof of his mouth, deeply punctured by her horns. When he tries withdrawing, she presses further, deepening the gouges.
Cyprin is unsure how deep her horns pierced into his skull, what they may have hit or destroyed. Flames begin to roll from her sibling’s maw, tearing into her skin until it halts only a second later. Their screams mingle together as she pulls herself from their predicament, stumbling and falling backward in pain.
And then there is silence.
Cyprin blinks away the tears as she watches the life slowly leave Bronsonn’s eyes.
</font></div></td></tr></table>
<center><font size="2" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:8px;line-height:10pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">Cyprin
<font size="1" color="dbd2b4" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:14pt;font-family: 'Marcellus SC', serif;">lior and nayl</font></center></td></tr></table></center></center>
<center><font face="times" size="1" color="black" style="letter-spacing:3px;line-height:9pt">picture by Jiamin Zhu on pinterest
</font></center>
935 words