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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


    [Closed] Who waits for their own slaughter... sheep.
    #6

    I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
    I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

    She talks, and it is like he is back home.

    He could close his eyes and feel the humid heat lay across his broad back like a blanket. He could smell the pungent scent of Amazonian vine and flowers blossoming beneath the silver of their strange night. He could hear the feline yelping of the predatory cat, the sound of paw on lush ground. He could feel the rush of adrenaline as the warriors race by him, the sound of feminine voice both husky and girlish as they meld together into one cacophony of joy. Home. He hears it in the lilt of her voice, in the passion of her voice.

    It brings an edge to his smile, a steely glint to his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest.

    “You’re an Amazon,” he says quietly when she’s done, his ink-dipped ears flicking forward. “More of a jaguar than a wolf,” although his smile is equally wolfish as hers, the golden stallion unable to keep the warmth from his features. “I was raised there by my mother Twinge.” She had been fierce during her reign, beloved by her sisters, constantly trailed by her feline friend, although not many of this day and age know of her name anymore. It, like her body, had been washed away by time and rain.

    For a second he considers her, rolling the idea around in his mouth before giving it to her.

    “I would like to tell you of my home, Tephra, but I think you would be more interested to hear of another.” He swings his head upward and to the side, gold-flecked eyes narrowing on the horizon. “It’s called Nerine, and it’s where the new sisterhood has flourished—this time amongst sea and cliff and not the depths of the jungle.” He missed the jungle, would never love their new land in the same way, but he would always carry a soft spot in his heart for them. “I could take you there, if you would like.”

    I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine



    @[Aysel] he is not great at this recruiting thing
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    RE: [open/any] Who waits for their own slaughter... sheep. - by magnus - 10-09-2018, 09:12 PM



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