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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


    [open]  I'm comming home...(Open)
    #3

    A movement in her peripherals caught Imke's attention. She turned her well formed head to better see the individual approaching; a winged creature of a beautiful iridescent hue. The fae, for it is a female, continued her approach though she slows as she got closer; her manner was nonthreatening. When she initiated her conversation her voice was not unpleasant.

    The snow coloured equine with wings fits well with Imke's memories of her home; full of magic and uniqueness that was not present elsewhere. As Imke recalled certain individuals even possessed magic on a level to rival the fairies themselves. The mere presence of such a singular individual as this mare helped make Imke more certain that she was in fact home, though the landscape surrounding them was still strange.

    "Greetings." Imke responds, her voice is hoarse from exposure to the salt water. "I am Imke, and you are...?" She asked, her voice still rasping, though she tried to clear her throat to make regain her normal voice. The ebony mare shook herself, she was still damp but the sand was falling away bit by bit. After a moment her dark eyes turned to examine her surroundings; the water at her back, the other equine and the forest ahead and the beach stretching in either direction at her sides.

    "This is Beqanna, is it not?" Deep down she is sure it is. "It has changed immensely since I was last on these shores...." Her rusty voice trailed off, she hoped the stranger would take the bate and give her some information about what had happened; the whispers she had heard were indistinct. From the look of the island Imke suspected the Fairies had done some redecorating, though to what extend she could not tell. The lady debated shaking her head to get rid of some of the liquid from her drenched tresses, but decided against it, she might splash her acquaintance and that would be a social faux pas.


    Imke

    I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm

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    Messages In This Thread
    I'm comming home...(Open) - by Imke - 11-21-2016, 09:34 PM
    RE: I'm comming home...(Open) - by irisa - 11-22-2016, 05:40 PM
    RE: I'm comming home...(Open) - by Imke - 11-22-2016, 09:24 PM
    RE: I'm comming home...(Open) - by irisa - 12-02-2016, 11:29 AM



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