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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]  Where I'm from, the rivers run red
    #7
    Listening to Myrna describe her home, Cascadia looked down to her young foal. It would be nice to have somewhere to call home again, somewhere she could raise her child and where she'd have other young ones to play with. And all importantly, it sounded safe.

    She smiled as the other mare spoke of company, it wasn't really something she had thought of recently, surviving and moving had been her only concern. But now, now she could feel the lonely tugging at her very soul, having some company sounds nice, maybe even an eventual friend.
    "Some company sounds nice" she spoke slowly, nodding her head absentmindedly. "I've been on my own for 9 months now, I had started to forget how lonely it was, and how on edge constantly looking for danger made you not realising she had lost eye contact she lifted her head slightly to regain it, the weariness mostly gone from her eye and it would be nice to have someone to talk to. I would very much like to see your home, thank you. she replied with a soft smile.

    Focusing on her sleeping foal with a gentle nudge "of course that relies on getting sleeping beauty to wake up" she said, with another nudge to her childs flank, earning her a grumble of complaint.
    Another nudge as she tried to rouse the tired foal wynters, I need you to wake darling."
    With a put out huff the grumpy foal lifted her head, reluctantly struggling to unsteady legs at her mother's insistent nudging. For a few long beats she wobbled on legs that were too long, leaning against her mother for support until she felt she was stable enough to not fall on her face. Taking a few tentative steps away from her mother's support, just to prove she could.
    Dispite her age, most newborns weren't as clumsy on their feet as she was. Of course that fact escaped the foal, but not the mother, who blamed herself for pushing her foal to travel for days just after her birth.
    It was only then that the foal noticed the other mare. Her head tilting in curiously, eye wide with the innocent intrigue of a young child seeing something for the first time.
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    Messages In This Thread
    Where I'm from, the rivers run red - by Cascadia - 10-14-2024, 12:13 PM
    RE: Where I'm from, the rivers run red - by Cascadia - 7 hours ago



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