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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


    the glass candles are burning; any
    #6
    His breath clings to the air in puffs of white, each step makes the fog thicker around his whiskered mouth. He is far too close now but he is so very intrigued with the winter that surrounds this girl. It is out of season, out of place, and it is out of desire that he crawls ever closer. Desire for what? Power? Eagerness to wet his insatiable cruel appetite? His sickness to cause that ache in another?, perhaps even himself? It's all of these things that pull him in, that snare the girl in his sights and wraps him so tightly in the moment.

    Her name hangs in the stillness and for a time it feels like they are the only two in the meadow. The conflict in her eyes balances him on the edge of the unknown. What would happen, what did she choose? The winged stallion thinks she may never act and his elation threatens to burst into darkness, but then the lull is stabbed with ice.

    The temperature shifts, drops intensely around even himself, and he watches her fiercely through his hazel eyes. The blister of snow pierces his lavender hide and while his body grows cold- his eyes burn. The shell that held him betrayed him, growing stiffer, shaking in response to the chill. His mind raced and screamed more, more, more; while his lips split with rawness. A spear of ice flies past him and still he remains an unyielding statue in the middle of a man-made blizzard. He is both irritated and impressed and if he was not becoming so stiff he would cock an eyebrow.

    It takes most of his will power to fight the stiffness in his limbs, to move the numbed appendages forward. He just barely managed, standing inches from her face, shaking like a sapling in a gale. "Enough." He struggles to say, because while he enjoyed the ecstasy of the burning pain of cold- he knew his body could only take so much.
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    Messages In This Thread
    the glass candles are burning; any - by Wayra - 10-19-2015, 09:16 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Kirin - 10-25-2015, 01:01 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Wayra - 10-26-2015, 02:28 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Kirin - 10-27-2015, 06:11 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Wayra - 10-29-2015, 12:51 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Kirin - 11-02-2015, 10:46 AM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Wayra - 11-03-2015, 11:09 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Kirin - 11-04-2015, 09:18 AM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Wayra - 11-08-2015, 02:44 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Kirin - 11-10-2015, 02:25 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Wayra - 11-19-2015, 12:35 PM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Kirin - 11-21-2015, 10:48 AM
    RE: the glass candles are burning; any - by Wayra - 12-03-2015, 11:08 PM



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