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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]  kindred dirt, any
    #5

    The pines moan with the wind, their trunks creaking like old floor-boards; squeaking and clicking. Perhaps a storm was on its way ̶ the humidity can be tasted on the autumn breeze, and soon, just maybe, a rumbling will stir before it rolls over the hills and valleys violently like the storms in Beqanna love to do.

    It is calm for now, though, and if a storm is brewing, it’s doing it subtly.

    He draws in a deep breath as she speaks, laughing a little under his breath. She betrays her youth, her innocence, and he’s seen it many times before. A brazen little filly, likely a maiden mare on her first set of adventures away from the family ̶ she usually finds the trouble she’s looking for. And she certainly will find it here in these dark forests, in the rocky hills, in these deep chilly boreal shadows.

    He’s delighted to oblige anyone looking for a little mischief when he’s in the mood. He slides his teal eyes down to her, “You’re likely to see fairly soon, missy.” he tosses his thick tail and bites at an itch on his shoulder, swiping fairly close to touching the mare beside him. “Many don’t choose a lion’s den for their first adventure, either foolish or brave…and then again, being brave when you’re going to get eaten regardless is just daft, isn’t it little doe?” his gaze narrows onto her, growling his last words through a dangerous sort of smirk, he sucks in a sharp breath and steps away, walking a few feet off.

    Want to see the rest of it then? Maybe we can find this…adventure..together. ” he turns back to look at her, looking over his speckled back with his smirk still bright. His body is swallowed by the dark shadows cloaking the path, his glowing smoke trailing behind and starting to emanate thicker from around his feet, dancing around his black frame in the murkiness.


    CHEMDOG
    to the window, to the wall


    @kalika
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    Messages In This Thread
    kindred dirt, any - by Chemdog - 04-23-2023, 03:07 PM
    RE: kindred dirt, any - by kalika - 04-23-2023, 08:57 PM
    RE: kindred dirt, any - by Chemdog - 04-24-2023, 06:47 AM
    RE: kindred dirt, any - by kalika - 04-25-2023, 09:35 AM
    RE: kindred dirt, any - by Chemdog - 05-02-2023, 11:34 AM



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