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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


    [open]  a relit cigarette never tastes the same; any
    #3

    a relit cigarette never tastes the same


    The yellow and blue girl doesn’t know her. The land doesn’t remember her. If she is being truthful, she doesn't even recognize herself. She is a ghost now, a name written in the history books and nothing more.

    Anonymity is not something she is accustomed to.

    It has never been her strong suit. From the very moment she opened her eyes, she has been always searching for more. More friction, more heat, more anything and everything the world has to offer. She has toed the line of right and wrong. She has staggered under the weight of kingdoms and crowns. She has spilled her own blood and the blood of others, so many times she has lost count. She has loved and lost, though the losing was much more common than the loving. She has done many, many things in her life, but being anonymous was never one of them.

    The sound and smell of another horse breaks her from her reverie, though she does little more than cock an ear in the direction of the noise. Perhaps she should be more concerned, but she cannot bring herself to do so. Even before she became the nightmare of the Valley, she was a model of supreme nonchalance. Mumbled curses reach her ears, followed by heavy footfalls and the ruffle of feathers. Finally, a face is put to the noise. Topsail is not shocked by her vibrant coloring or large wings; she was too much of a monster to be shocked by something that minor. However, she knows too that a book is never to be judged by its cover, and so she reserves any further judgement. At least, until the other mare speaks, and when she does, Topsail cannot help a smirk. It is not meant with ill intent, however, just simply her way of doing things. With that smirk still lifting the corners of her black muzzle, she finds the other mares eyes before speaking ”If I was going to eat you, I would be well on my way to digesting you before you had even looked my way.” she says, her voice pouring not into the other mares ears but into every crack and crevice of her brain. ”Don’t worry though, I’ve been vegan now for several years. Topsail.”





    Topsail

    and that’s all I‘ll preach about rekindling old flames
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: a relit cigarette never tastes the same; any - by Topsail - 03-09-2020, 09:55 PM



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