• Logout
  • 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


    come down from the mountain; djinni
    #2

    we dance with the devils
    your halo's the color of sinner's portraits

    This is before the Field, she thinks as she walks, unsure how she knows this – only that she does. Someone must have wished it; she’s aware of that at least. There’s no way to tell who anymore though, and Djinni resigns herself to never knowing.

    It is something she’d done many times before, and will surely do so again.

    The autumn air is crisp in her lungs, an icy finger running down her tongue and throat and finally fading away in her belly. For a long while she stands with her attention on the sky, watching the red and orange leaves as they blow across the pale grey sky. When the mare finally lowers her gaze to the earth she sees another flash of gold that at first she thinks is just another leaf. But her vision sharpens and the distant palomino stallion comes into focus. Her heart leaps in her chest

    Is she only happy to see a familiar face? Are they friends? More than that? Does she love him? Has she ever told him she does? Djinni can’t even remember. Perhaps her mother had told her a story of Walter and it involved love; she doesn’t know that for sure either.

    But she does know this feeling bubbling up in her throat to warm the cool left by the wind. It’s happiness, and it shines in her dark eyes as she canters toward him across the empty meadow. Her mane and tail stream out behind her, as yellow as the warm sunshine coursing through her veins. Her body remains the same shade she was born, a smoky grey with her father’s white withers. “Walter!” She says as she comes close and then again “Walter,” because she’s not entirely sure that she’d said it aloud the first time. “What are you doing here? Where have you been? What have you been up to?” The words spill out of her in a rush and she reaches forward to press her black muzzle to his jaw just as much to stop the flood of words as to offer him a greeting.


    d j i n n i
    priam x aseret
    current shape: arabian-hyrid mare, 15 hh
    current color: smoky grullo tobiano with yellow mane and tail


    D J I N N I
    genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster
    Reply


    Messages In This Thread
    come down from the mountain; djinni - by Walter - 10-15-2015, 02:16 PM
    RE: come down from the mountain; djinni - by Djinni - 10-17-2015, 10:31 PM



    Users browsing this thread: 2 Guest(s)