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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


    deep roots are not reached by the frost - any
    #1
    It soaks her to the core, her cold and wet flesh absorbing the water as it drips along the musculature of her neck and shoulders, leaving her feeling numb. She felt paralyzed, her hooves sinking slowly into the once solid ground that was now turning to slop beneath her weight. Despite the mud that caked her lower body and the bone-chilling rain that ran across her skin, Merida always found the rain to be soothing.

    She realizes, though, as her golden eyes shift to the tumulus sky above that it was the clash of thunder and lightning that she enjoys the most. She snorts softly with exuberance as lightning rips through what was thought to be a seamless, black sky. Black ears flip placidly backwards as she awaits the roar of the expected thunder, her black skin shivering with anticipation. Fiery red tendrils of mane and forelock press tightly against her neck and face, plastered icily against the curvature of her skin. The unforgiving bite of winter whips at her, sharply cutting against her flesh.

    With a sharp snort and a thrust of her head upwards, Merida awakes with a start. It is early morning, with the sun barely peeking over the horizon of the meadow. All around her was sparkling white snow, smooth and untouched from horses moving through its heavy banks. She sighs heavily (and almost sadly), black sides rising with the extension of her ribs outwards. Her dream, which could seem like a nightmare to others, was the most excitement she had experienced in a very long time.

    As the sun slowly brings it’s warmth above the horizon, its rays touching the snow and causing the world around her to glimmer and sparkle serenely. After a quick toss of her head, she begins to walk slowly through the meadow, searching for areas where the snow wasn’t as thick so that she might find some breakfast.

    Merida was always on the search for adventure and thus her time spent away from Beqanna had been extremely long. She was no longer a small filly, though her fiery personality and yearning for excitement hasn’t changed – in fact, it’s grown (just as she had). Thanks to her time outside of Beqanna, Merida has become strong and muscular as well as cunning and smart. But even she knows that all adventures must come to an end and she slowly found herself aching for home.

    She’s slowly realizing that home isn’t exactly the same as it was when she left it. The curiosity made her skin prick in a way that she enjoyed, wondering what had happened here that had caused the gods to make the lands to shift.

    The black mare stops where the snow gives way to a small pond, the water not yet frozen all the way through from the recent temperatures. With a flick of her red tail against her haunch, she lowers her head and drinks deeply from the icy pool.

    merida

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    Messages In This Thread
    deep roots are not reached by the frost - any - by Merida - 03-08-2017, 06:57 AM
    RE: deep roots are not reached by the frost - any - by Marlyn - 03-08-2017, 01:02 PM



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