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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


    [mature]  All the Pretty Little Horses || Private
    #6

    He watches as she sinks under the reflective surface.  Ripples of water radiate from their bodies as each movement or heart beat creates them.  Her little show was admirable but he only could play along for so long.

    As she resurfaces the look of temptress is replaced with sudden regret.  Uncertainty strikes the mares core and his position does not waver.  He simply watches with head held high.  Observing her now cautious movements a devious smirk crawls onto his maw.  She was fearful... Good.  She'd fight it until she weakened to the point of submission.

    Words began filling the tightening space between them.  She seemed to lean away and he was quick to lean in further.  Pushing her back towards the solid ground of the forests.  Backing her into the darkened shadows the canopy created.  The open wasn't a place for them to do this.  Too many eyes to see him take her.  Too many ears to hear her desperate screams.  "Sorry but you CANT leave.  I told you I needed something and YOU will be giving me it you dirty slut.  You started this game and I WILL be finishing it," his tone is threatening.  Lavender ears lay flat, as his head lowers to snake her into the confines of the darkness.  His powers begin to seek items of the natural world around them.  An array of iron and stone plate his body in an armor as switches of thorns intertwine in the mix.  Spiraling along his forelimb shin plates and along his created breast plate.  A delicate mask shields his face with slivers of silver and wild rose thorn vines.  Each step he made was intended to cut off any escape and encourage the dark mare to strike first...

    Klaudius
    I was lightning, before the thunder



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    RE: All the Pretty Little Horses || Private - by Klaudius - 03-05-2018, 06:13 PM



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