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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


    fault lines tremble underneath my glass house; shah
    #6

    All things are possible, even the worst of things.

    The urge to step forward, to press into her, to offer comfort, is strong. He almost does, but he catches himself. He has always been so open, so free with his touches that he often forgets that not all horses care to be touched. But he remembers then, unwilling to inadvertently frighten her away. She appears so fragile with her slender frame and large, luminous eyes. The instinct to protect is a foreign one to him (he had always been surrounded warrior women, women who would rather protect themselves, women who would rather die than have a man protect them). But with her, the instinct is nearly undeniable. It is a novel experience to meet one who brings forth such a strong desire to shield and safeguard.

    She is unharmed, and for that he is grateful. But she is wracked with guilt, appalled at her own actions, or lack thereof. He cannot prevent himself from brushing his muzzle against her then. A soft caress meant to sooth her self-recrimination.

    Could you have done anything to prevent it? You should not feel guilty over this, especially if you did not have the power to stop it.

    Sometimes, escaping with your life is simply the best course of action, because then it is possible to live to fight another day.

    Their eyes meet as she continues, expressing sudden regret at having told him the tale. He breathes softly into her shoulder, pressing his dark muzzle against warm skin. He cannot regret that she had told him, cannot regret that she had entrusted him with such secrets. He would hold that trust because she deserves to have her faith restored. He can only hope that she will believe him.

    You are doing just fine. I promise you that your secrets are mine. I won’t tell a soul if you don’t wish me to.

    He smiles then, a small quirk of lips meant to be reassuring.

    Would it help if I told you some of my secrets? Although, come to think of it, I can’t say I have too many.

    And then she surprises him, stepping beneath his neck, pressing against him as her muzzle touches his chest, directly over his heart. He leans into her, taking comfort in her touch, in her kindness. Her words are softly assuring, reminding him of something he already knows. Something he had forgotten in his grief. But then, perhaps for him the hardest part had not been his grief, but the lack of support. And now she is here, providing him with exactly what he needs.

    shahrizai

    hestoni x scorch

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    RE: fault lines tremble underneath my glass house; shah - by Shahrizai - 09-28-2015, 10:52 PM



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