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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
    #7
    Merida
    from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken
    She is comfortable with him, something that hasn’t happened with another in a very long time. She’s not exactly the best company, what with her privy to being a bit condescending and distrusting, as well as her fiery eyes that make it difficult to look at her straight in the eye. Most of the time she feels as if others are looking down on her, and not in the literal sense. A mixture of a lonely life and only a handful of good experiences has led to her inevitable inability to keep friends, though she has convinced herself she doesn’t need them.

    Besides, a fox doesn’t need a pack, right? Not like a wolf does.

    Merida has always been fascinated with the different abilities and powers that have been riddled throughout Beqanna much like a disease. For her entire life she has been traitless, despite parents with powers of their own. Oh sure, in her equine form, her black body speckled with iridescent red flecks and her bright, flaming mane and tail gave her the appearance of a traited individual, but she was as powerless as any other regular animal. She felt life cruel to her for leaving her without something to make her truly special in this unkind world, but her many prayers had been answered the day she found her body bending and her bones breaking to fit her soul inside of another capsule. However small and delicate and rather unimpressive, she found her fox-self rather appealing compared to the boring mare she had known her entire life.

    Broad, triangular ears prick forward curiously as he pulls her in with his hinting at another ability, and she lifts her head from her paws quickly.

    He’s already towering above her again, his form massive and truly beast-like as she watches him from her belly.

    The howl that begins as a rumble in his chest slowly groans into his throat, the air pushing through his body forcefully as the sound increases in berth and depth. Foxes do not howl, not as beautiful as this, so she listens almost enchantedly, the auburn of her eyelids folding slowly over her piercing red gaze, mesmerized.

    Her eyes widen as the flames erupt much like the cap of a volcano, wisping and sputtering from his mouth with ease. She leaps up in surprise with a sharp yelp, her darkened and agile legs bringing her a safe distance from the sudden intense heat that spills from his throat. As his note ends so does the spouting flames, the chill of autumn once again filling the air and the space between them with the heat’s absence. It had been an amazing spectacle. “Party trick?!” she repeats, jaw slackening in shock. “Party trick my ass,” she says again, this time a bit softer and almost a mumble as she brings herself before him again, a bit closer now than she had been a moment before his flaming spectacle.

    From Crevan’s lips comes a flurry of questions and she tries her best to not act a bit excited that their conversation is not coming to a close. With a soft and sweet sigh, the she-fox sprawls lazily on her side before him, her belly stark with white against the darkness of the forest floor. “I guess you could say I’m from Loess,” she says rather boredly, stretching her thin paws as a yawn leaves her black-lined lips. She didn’t much like to be associated with a place, but it was the area she mostly stuck to, so she only can assume that Loess is technically where she lives. “Are there more of us?” she replies curiously with a few thumps of her bushy tail, a single red eye fixating on his now familiar stare.

    “A fox, hm? I’m, um, still figuring it all out. I think my favorite thing is my senses – the things I can see and smell and hear are so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” She pauses, rolling from her side to sit carefully on her elbows. “A wolf, though. That’s something.” 

    Perhaps it was a compliment – it was the closest thing she’s ever been to giving one.


    @[Crevan]
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    RE: deep roots are not reached by the frost ~ any - by Merida - 08-30-2017, 03:29 PM



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