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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


    christmahanakwanzika [any]
    #2
    Winter is not Yael’s forte. It isn’t her foible either, with heat a mere wish away. She remembers when she was much younger, accompanying Nocturnal on a diplomatic visit to the Tundra in the middle of winter. It was a necessary trip, but conducted at a silly time, and she remembers shivering uncontrollably before they even caught a glimpse of the Wall. Desert born and Desert bred, Yael will never be truly comfortable in a land of ice and snow. But the change of seasons is inevitable and so for three months out of the year, she simply chooses not to leave her home if she doesn’t have to. She’s earned that little indulgence.

    But it isn’t winter yet, and the wind is still warm with the last vestiges of an Indian summer. So when she feels the familiar tug of magic and soon after, a fine flurry of snow falling from the sky, Yael is slightly puzzled. This should… definitely not be happening. Although… as long as it isn’t cold, she’s kind of inclined to play along. A quick movement in her peripheral vision causes her to quickly turn her head, and she catches the tail end of Weir’s cheer-ball as it hits another horse. Happiness spreads outwards, and though it doesn’t reach Yael, she laughs with unabashed joy. Oh! This is her kind of party!

    The little golden woman (almost the color of the amber light – coincidence? Perhaps) is eager to help the mystery stallion in his odd quest for happiness.  She doesn’t know about Christmas – having never experienced it as a human, and only celebrating a couple of holidays that definitely weren’t in B’kanna’s history. So instead, she thinks of what makes her family happy, and for Vanquish and her son, that is undoubtedly food. With a mischievous gleam in her eye, carrots start to pop out of the ground, and apples begin to sprout on all the low hanging boughs of trees. They are big and crisp and sweet and juicy, and it seems that as soon as one is plucked by a pair of teeth, another starts to grow in its place until the Meadow folk can eat no more.

    Food is happiness. Food is love.
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    Messages In This Thread
    christmahanakwanzika [any] - by Weir - 12-18-2015, 12:46 PM
    RE: christmahanakwanzika [any] - by Yael - 12-18-2015, 01:55 PM
    RE: christmahanakwanzika [any] - by Brennen - 12-22-2015, 01:46 PM
    RE: christmahanakwanzika [any] - by Evrae - 12-22-2015, 04:48 PM
    RE: christmahanakwanzika [any] - by Weir - 12-23-2015, 09:25 AM



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