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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


    Winter in my heart (open)
    #1
    Laced in vulnerability, she was forced to remain in the Golden plains territory, shaking her head in blighted annoyance, she often found herself using her stamina and untapped energy to run from one direction to the next with a few bounds and wild leaps off the ground. A kick here and there with wild tossing of head that caused the light tresses of her mane to flounder about her face. When ever the young mare could, she would pursue some sense of familiarity in traveling even if it was in a trapped distance, it was in her nature, her blood to discover. Vianne had seen every rock and cranny since her arrival, every blade of grass had not gone unnoticed making her search for something unbeknownst to her yet. Only stopping when she contemplated on running for her freedom. It was a tempting idea, one that she knew that couldn't be executed . Where would she go? And what about the Alpha males warnings about the raping and murders happening? His cautions is what kept her chained here.

    The sounds of her jumping hooves thundered aggressively against the soft grounds, not realizing nor caring if someone may be watching her antics from a distance. Quickly she flailed and writhed in a series of movements, limber legs thrashing with sharpened hooves stomping about as she continued her strange ritualistic dance. Vianne missed her old way of life,her aunts, the desert so much that it was causing her heart to ache with distress. Everything here was so foreign to the broken horned unicorn, the way the trees moved with the slightest brush of wind, how the birds sang even at night. Even the way the water tasted seemed too surreal for Vianne that it was sometimes difficult for her to not feel overwhelmed and out of place, though she kept her own opinions and thoughts of the matter to herself. It was safer this way, to be introverted.


    Messages In This Thread
    Winter in my heart (open) - by Vianne - 01-24-2016, 03:10 AM
    RE: Winter in my heart (open) - by Vianne - 01-28-2016, 06:40 PM
    RE: Winter in my heart (open) - by Vianne - 01-31-2016, 03:54 PM



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