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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


    what a cunning foe we've met -- dark
    #3

    i’ve been both a saint & a viper

    The ungodly sound that erupts from his mouth as she stumbles into him is something that he cannot help. It’s nearly as terrible as the monster’s howls amongst the darkness, a groan that is eerie and ominous, albeit forlorn. He swings his too-large head towards her with a low and guttural sound, like a hiss, blinking back the stellar light that erupts from her skin. But it is not the light, he realizes, that bothers him the most - it is the slick and deep red that stains her cheek, lucious and inviting. The gaunt stallion swallows hard, the crystalline of his blue eyes hovering lustfully on her wound and her slender, pulsing throat beneath it. 

    “You can hear them?” His voice quivers dangerously, almost hopefully, as she moves to face off into the darkness where he can hear the monsters skittering in the brush. He moves with her, far more interested in her presence alone than the things that lurk in the darkness. His eyes carve out the shadow of her body as he draws alongside her, clearly not worried about the monsters she was so terrified by, even as one brushes against his onyx legs and then runs back into the darkness.

    Balto inhales tremorously, not realizing how fragrant blood could be. He had seen enough of it, of course, spilled in the Plains and when he has killed - but it is different now, for some reason. The metallic and rust scent is replaced with something that makes the hunger pangs in his stomach twist helplessly.  When he exhales, he answers her. “Running makes no difference.”

    Though the words are sinister, there is no threat in his voice. “I ran for years. They will find you regardless.” Winded, he pauses, licking his dark lips. The darkness of his ears tip back slightly, running his tongue beneath his closed mouth against his teeth. His deep-set eyes are back to the spliced skin of her cheek, lifting his chin slightly where the prominence of red against his throat can now be seen.

    Kill her, they whisper to him, and he wonders if she can hear them still.

    Balto




    @[dark]
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    Messages In This Thread
    what a cunning foe we've met -- dark - by Balto - 01-10-2021, 08:09 AM
    RE: what a cunning foe we've met -- dark - by Balto - 05-08-2021, 12:07 PM



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