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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


    open your eyes and see that life is beautiful || dahmer, ledger || birthing
    #2

    Bound for trouble from the start
    I've been walking through this old world in the dark

    The guilt consumed him and yet he stayed. Watching her from afar, wanting nothing more then to pull her to him. Wanting to protect her and her unborn child. But how could he protect them from himself? Miserably the one eyed stallion wanders Tephra, familiarizing himself with the dark sands of the beach and the ashen rocks that are strewn along the coastline. He stays away from the volcano, the threat of it’s fire makes the bear within him uncomfortable. He had once died at the hands of Carnage when he spiraled an icicle in his heart, he is frozen and yet he remains in Tephra. For her.

    Perhaps she sees him but they do not acknowledge each other. Every day he prays they will. Every day they do not. Each night he replays their last meeting, once again he barely eats. Doesn’t sleep. The circles deepen and bruise beneath his gold flecked eye. He suffers and knows he deserves it. He always watches, watches the way her sides begin to swell. How her steps become heavier and at times she seems so tired that she might collapse. He has lost count of the times he had started to go to her aid, only to stop. She didn’t want him, not after she saw what he really was. The only relief is that Dahmer never shows his face and for that alone he is thankful. To have that salt in an already raw gaping wound would be too much, he would lose control forever.

    With the switch in season, the air begins to warm slightly. Humidity makes sweat cling to his brow and he often shuffles with discomfort or finds solace in the waves that lap at his hocks. Evening is best when even the smoldering heat of the volcano is softened by the darkness. He is looking forward to the coolness when in the soft shades of twilight he sees her pregnant figure. Her stride speaks of purpose and with concern gleaming in the depths of gold, he follows her. Something has changed.

    Quietly he traces her steps towards a cavern. His hooves ring against the gray stone and he pauses, hesitates. Perhaps he was intruding where he wasn’t wanted but his worry for her outweighs the risks. As quietly as he can, he enters. She is crumpled on the ground, groans escaping from velvet lips as damp locks cling to her neck. Visibly he tenses, unsure if he should get help, if she was sick. It takes a moment as his eyes adjust to the darkness, the way her sides heave. Labor. It was finally time.

    Perhaps she doesn’t notice him here or just didn’t care. As she fights her pain, he finally comes to a decision. Turning his back on her, gracing her with the privacy she deserves, he stands guard. Making sure none come forward until her time is done. This is a familiar task, one he does well with the many nights he avoids his dreams. The watch is long and it’s not till the first faint streaks of gray and pink find the sky that he realizes how quiet it is behind him.

    A small foal, golden and cream, lays beside her. He is not close enough to see that what he mistakes for soft white fur is actually pieces of bone. It’s a boy and she affectionately cleans him and names him. She has found her feet and is encouraging the boy to do the same, still either unaware that he has been here the whole time or simply ignoring him on purpose. He doesn’t know. The guilt refreshens, his pain coiling in his breast as he gazes quietly at the pair. His sides press against rough rock as he steps closer to them, pausing slightly as her voice breaks from the cavern. Calling for him.

    His facial features turn to stone a brooding cloud hanging over his head. Pain evident as light reflects in the depth of a single iris. But he stays. Turning his neck slightly, his body positioned protectively before both of them. He waits for the arrival of the one who had ruined everything.

    Ledger



    Messages In This Thread
    RE: open your eyes and see that life is beautiful || dahmer, any || birthing - by Ledger - 07-19-2017, 10:09 PM



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