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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


    he drank my past, like the finest of wines; raul
    #2
    He didn't notice her at first. The silent way she appeared, like a wisp of fog made solid. Clegane had not stayed so near as of late. The boy had a wanderlust to him that was no doubt made worse by the rise of hormones his body now contained this time of year. Once again, the fiery maned stallion was left to his solitary existence. 

    His eyes had been half shut, almost asleep in the pre-dawn light. The air was brisk and he nearly wished for the closeness of another body. But there were exceptionally few he could think of who he would tolerate so close, especially in the vulnerability of sleep. Few enough that he would rather face the chill alone. 

    When her scent filtered to him, it was not surprising. The painted woman had featured in his dreams innumerable times over the years. Fiercely beautiful, even when the sickness had done its best to waste her. Her unique perfume made him reluctant to wake fully, to lose this tiny scrap of memory being offered by his mind. It was too late, though. The birds were singing in the cold morning light, the imminent sun turning the horizon a green-gold tinge. Sleep was at an end, and with it any chance of further dreaming.

    He sighed and stretched, blinking the discordant eyes he'd inherited and groaning at the stiffness in his back. A waking routine that came to an abrupt halt as the shadow of another caught his eye. His nostrils flared uncertainly at the still figure lingering beyond his dreams. There was no mistaking the shape of her, the gleaming eyes that looked black in the half-light but that he knew were truly a deep dark blue. 

    She looked prefect. Whole, and healthy. Nothing like the last time he'd seen her, when their bodies were worn with disease and the stresses of survival. When she had bitten off her words with angry disdain and told him she wanted nothing more to do with him. Had vanished, and taken their unborn son away with her. Emotions in strengths he hadn't felt in a long time emerged with breathtaking speed as he absorbed the sight of Warlight before him. 

    "Come to settle some unfinished business, have you?" He asked in his grit-rough voice, when the silence stretched too long. For that was all he could think of. That she was a ghost of the girl he'd loved, come to haunt him in waking hours now as well as sleeping ones, or to finally say goodbye. She was too heart-breakingly beautiful to be anything else. More to the point, he could not bear the idea that she had gone all this time alive and well, and avoiding him and abandoning their son. 

    @[Warlight]


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: he drank my past, like the finest of wines; raul - by Raul - 12-19-2019, 03:19 PM



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