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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


    don't know how it gets better than this, tarte
    #2
    "

    I've seen devils, i've seen saints
    I've seen the line between them fade


    It was strange the way life had taken hold, and charted the course beneath their feet. Strange, and still difficult to accept some days, though the electric night mare had been working on it. 

    It was just that, she had never once thought growing up that she would have a family. Of any sort, let alone the kind of beautiful sanctuary she'd found in Cirilla's heart. Even still, she forgot sometimes that she didn't have to fight every day just to earn the right to survive. Didn't have to walk on eggshells or jump straight to the defensive as soon as anything tense came up. 

    It was a long road, one she was thankful she didn't have to walk alone. Then again, she probably wouldn't be on it in the first place if she hadn't found a reason to choose redemption. And chosen it again when they'd discovered that having children didn't have to be impossible. 

    It had meant so much to Ciri. The girl from the big family, who had dreamed of having one of her own. Tarte had never had such dreams. She had never planned on reproducing at all, because it seemed so very far fetched that she'd ever be able to parent them adequately. How could she? She been suckled on venom, both literally and figuratively, and had very little idea of how else to go about things. Any way that was different from her mother's, certainly. But that left so much else open ended. 

    So much that could go wrong. 

    How close she had come to running then. Turning her back and closing her heart until it ached its last. How relieved she was that it had been a different route she'd landed on. That fear and self-loathing hadn't won out and that Cirilla had stood by her through it. Where would she be without her wife, their children? As much as she was not a perfect parent, she made herself content that she was at least a better one than she'd endured as a child. 

    She'd always been quick to anger, but she was learning to be quick to forgive, too. She was armored, but she could let others in, could trust them not to damage her intentionally. 

    She was, she realized with slow wonder, happy. 

    It was hot, but that was a kind contrast after the constant cold of the eclipse. Rising to her feet, she returned her lover's smile, her coat alive in the daylight. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," she agreed, her own muzzle reaching to caress the fire-silvered skin on Ciri's jaw, along her throat. 

    Her own skin was already damp with sweat, begging for relief from the air that would only grow warmer as the hours went by. Yes, it was the perfect day to spend in the surf, worshipping the sun and each other.



    TARTE







    @[cirilla]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: don't know how it gets better than this, tarte - by Tarte - 06-01-2021, 02:34 PM



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