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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


    [open]  living in a city of sleepless people [quest]
    #1

    With the advent of spring causing her winter coat to have shed in patches and the ever-changing hue of her greying hair, the still mostly-black filly looks mangy and unkempt. However, she seems blissfully unaware of this as she canters gracefully into the meadow, a halo of bright sunlight glowing softly around her head. Her deep blue eyes carry a wisdom that seems beyond her youth, a maturity derived from spending time with only an adult, rather than others near her own age.

    She does not know where her mother is at the moment, but the girl is fearless when it comes to doing things on her own. Whether by some stroke of luck or by virtue of her pedigree, a fierce streak of independence runs rampant through her blood and is echoed in every confident thud of her sapphire hooves. She glances around, wondering if there are any other children hiding among the tall grasses that stretch longingly toward the sun.

    Seeing none, she decides to head for one of the small creeks that cut across the land. Though she is predisposed to an affinity for darkness, she prefers to keep her flesh intact most of the time, so she is careful to avoid any shadows laying in wait. Thankfully there are not many trees in her path, so she does not have much to evade. Instead, she delicately picks her way through a dense, luxurious patch of clover, briefly intrigued by the green and gold pinpricks of light that disperse into the air as she disturbs the shamrock bed with her dainty steps.

    A faint, almost imperceptible warmth spreads through her skin, but she merely chalks it up to the increasing temperature as the day wears on.

    She finds a spot where the water crashes against a collection of large rocks in the creek bed and wades in, not quite in the swirling vortex, but close enough to enjoy the cooling mist that rises into the air. She drops her head to drink from the surprisingly clear water and with just the right angle, her sunny halo shatters through the water droplets to envelop her in a rainbow of colors.

    Sated, she returns to scanning for signs of some other soul to bond with. It’s already been a somewhat lonely young life.

    Vallebeth

    image by strigif0rme | GIF
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    #2
    -

    She is a mother of monsters.
    They have ravaged the earth.
    They have eaten their way from her womb.
    She has unleashed true horror.
    (Not on purpose, never on purpose.
    But her womb is a poisoned thing, you see.)

    Save for the girls.
    Her beautiful daughters.
    They were never built for destruction.
    Lovely things, if not absolutely just or kind.

    But the last death had taken her sight.
    Those golden eyes have gone cloudy.
    She has not laid eyes on the dark filly in the water.
    She knows the child in other ways.
    Knows exactly the sound of her breathing.
    The soft thrum of life.

    (She has cared for this child in ways she has not cared for others.)
    (Perhaps because Death had gnawed once again at her heart.)

    And when the child goes, she follows.
    Not closely, not at first.

    But panic seizes her by the throat, Bible.
    When she can no longer hear the hoofbeats.
    She begins to run, blind and headlong.
    Crashes into the water because she could not hear it over her fear.

    “Vallebeth!” she cries.
    It comes out strangled, see.
    See how it agonizes her!

    ever since i heard the howlin' wind
    i didn't need to go where a bible went
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    #3

    She stands there for a while, largely motionless except for those watchful blue eyes, when suddenly they seem to ice over and no longer see what truly lies before her. Having a child’s imagination, she has always been able to paint vivid images in her mind, but lately, the images have become silent and sometimes terrifying. And worst of all, they are not her own products. No, they come unbidden every time and she can’t explain how.

    The location is unchanged and in it, she sees a child nearby. It plays and frolics as any babe should at such a tender age, but unlike Beth, it lacks in confidence when it decides to test the waters. The steps are hesitant, and this becomes its downfall. The unsteady feet slip on the slick rocks in the creek bed. Today, the creek is no quietly bubbling channel. Instead, it is more of a raging river, fed by unusually excessive snowmelt from the distant mountains.

    She watches as the foal is swept toward her by the fast-moving current and is eventually dashed against the very rocks that loom beside her. She could not feel the terror that the child must have felt, but she can certainly imagine it.

    And there the vision ends.

    And that is when her name rings through the air, heavy and twisted with dread, startling her. She jumps and searches for the source. That is when she sees the gilded figure thrashing in the water.

    “Mama!”

    Her voice is clear and strong as a pealing bell announcing the hour. She does not wait for Bible to come to her, instead she wades over to the panicking mare. She is not stricken with vexation toward her mother for disrupting her opportunity to meet someone. No, Beth is always patient with her, allows her to hover, for she always relishes any affection that her mother gives.

    She speaks softer now, seeking to soothe her mother’s nerves. “Mama, I’m here. I’m alright.” Then she waits for the anxiety to ebb away before she reaches out to touch the cool metal of her mother’s shoulder.

    “I won’t play in the water anymore, Mama, if it worries you. Should we go somewhere else?”

    There is no hesitation in her promise and she knows that she won’t break it, for she can still see the ruined body of the child from her vision. No, it won’t be difficult to avoid the water after today.

    Vallebeth

    image by strigif0rme | GIF

    @bible btw, since Squirt asked, I should probably tell you too that I'm writing her as somewhere around 6 months old =)
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