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    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]  young spitfires
    #2

    Being alive is exhilarating!

    Barrow is trembling with excitement, his legs prancing underneath of him in anticipation.  Momma kisses his brow, tells him to be good, and points in the direction of the playground.  He’s been waiting for this moment for days.  Being with momma is great and all, but there is so much more to see away from her.  She had promised him that after three moonrises he could venture off on his own in the safety of the playground.  Now that the time has come, he bursts forward with all the unbridled energy of the young.  There is no stopping him as he races his shadow to the treeline.  He’s almost there, almost through to the other side, when he remembers – he’s forgotten to tell Momma goodbye. 

    The colt comes to a shuddering halt and reverses, back to the welcoming sight and side of his dam.  He reaches up and presses a gentle kiss on her red cheek, her strawberry mane tickling his face, before racing into the woods and beyond.
          
    Barrow rejoices at his newfound freedom.  He kicks his heels up as he goes, warmed by the mild spring sunlight that dapples both him and the forest floor. There are new sights to see and smells to smell and he wants to experience everything.  If only he could slow his restless feet! They seem to have a mind of their own, his feet, and they carry him into the heart of the children’s sanctuary in no time at all.

    He immediately sees that he is not alone.  “Hello there!”  He calls out before he has even assessed the situation; being obnoxiously friendly and unafraid is deeply engrained in his family’s DNA, after all.  It is a girl his age, monochrome in color, and perhaps out for her first adventure like he is.  The boy is already moving towards her with his bottlebrush tail raised in excitement when the girl disappears.

    Or rather reappears as an ungainly hawk. It is enough of a show to give Barrow pause.  He tilts his red head in curiosity but draws forward after a beat or two.  Concern replaces his curiosity and wrinkles his brow as he looks down at the raptor.  “Pardon, but I don’t think you know how to fly yet?  Best stay on the ground.”



    BARROW





    @[Mazikeen]
    Reply


    Messages In This Thread
    young spitfires - by Mazikeen - 03-28-2020, 08:40 PM
    RE: young spitfires - by Barrow - 04-14-2020, 04:49 PM
    RE: young spitfires - by Mazikeen - 04-24-2020, 06:07 PM
    RE: young spitfires - by Barrow - 04-25-2020, 11:48 PM
    RE: young spitfires - by Mazikeen - 04-27-2020, 08:22 PM
    RE: young spitfires - by Barrow - 05-16-2020, 04:23 PM



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