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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


    Warn your warmth to turn away (any)
    #3

    She sees the other mare before she hears her arrival. Abnormal and terrible for a horse, no doubt, but an unfortunate consequence of ignoring essentially all sounds during her run. She had run past so many others – horses, deer, creeks, waterfalls – that nothing caught her attention in the second before she’d breeze pass. Rather, she had found herself ignoring everything but the repetitive rhythm of her hoof beats, a stable pulse in an unstable life. It was steady, constant… and now non-existent since she had stopped.
     
    Instead, she hears the voice of the other mare. She seems amicable, or so the iron mare thought? It was hard to tell – she hadn’t heard the voice of another in so long, and the last few conversations she did have… well, they were far less than cordial. But the smile on the rose grey’s lips are difficult to misread, and so, quickly, Chalmette determines that she – Vineine – means no harm.
     
    But that was what she thought of him once as well.
     
    She blinks. She’s being ridiculous. There is no need to project his cruelty onto someone so innocent and friendly. She was once a fun, friendly girl too! Even a bit of a flirt, as he accused her once. She can do that again (the fun, friendly part). She knows she can. Or at least hopes she remembers how.
     
    She inhales deeply, buying herself a second to pep talk herself into sanity under the ruse of catching her breath. And then she draws the biggest smile she could find onto her lips as well, hoping it would seem neither too large and forced nor too imperceptible and cold.
     
    “Hi Vineine,” she manages, hearing her own voice for the first time in months. “I’m Chalmette.” She then pauses, trying to discern how to respond to the rose mare’s second statement. She feels like the Amazons are a location? Or a group, perhaps? But to be frank, she hadn’t a clue, and she could feel an embarrassed blush coming along.
     
    “I’m sorry…” she begins, her smile growing more sheepish but less forced. “What are the Amazons?”


    chalmette

    SHE EXHALES VANILLA LACE




    (No need to be sorry! Open to anything and everything! Smile )
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: Warn your warmth to turn away - by Vineine - 01-14-2016, 06:11 PM
    RE: Warn your warmth to turn away - by Chalmette - 01-15-2016, 03:31 PM



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