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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


    the cinders are falling like snow; raelynx
    #2

    i love the way that your heart breaks
    with every injustice and deadly fate

    The fruit of a thousand loins spill across the land. Great, lumbering beasts that trample the earth and live their lives. Some are kind, faithful, good, a service to the land they live upon. Some are not. Some are like him. Loosed upon the land with strange concepts and stranger convictions. Perhaps they should not have been born, those set loose to destroy. But they are, and they will live, remaking this land until it is there’s.

    He stumbles into the meadow that day. Unaware and oblivious, he pays little attention to where he wanders. He has never needed to. The land has been his home, and he goes where the land takes him. There is little thought as to what part of the land it might be, who it might belong to. Of this, he has little concept of yet. And even had he, there is little doubt that simply would not care. So he walks, spindly black legs carrying him through the long, swaying grasses of early summer.

    He walks until he is suddenly blinded. His gray eyes squint against the sudden brightness, his bland gaze searching for that which had shone so. Most would glance away from the pain of the brilliant reflection, but not he. Oh, most definitely not he. It would not be far off to say that he basks in the discomfort, seeking out that which hurt him. The flash suddenly is gone as a body shifts, and he sees her there: the silver bright mare that had blinded him so.

    He approaches her then, a fly drawn into the alluring light. The fly does not know that the light will zap him and he will die. The fly does not care. Neither does he. He approaches, no knowledge of this mare. Of who she is, of what she could do. And still he approaches.

    He does not say a word as he steps close. He merely looks at her, gray eyes large and placid. He is intrigued, but he does not say it. He is delighted, but he does not show it. She, unknowingly wielding her bright skin like a weapon, is just what he is looking for.

    Raelynx

    khaos x eyrie

    html c insane | picture c naelii.deviantart.com
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    Messages In This Thread
    i love the way that your heart breaks... - by Raelynx - 08-11-2015, 12:46 PM



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