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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


    dont go through the front door [deimos]
    #1
    POTION & ECCO
    Autumn. The wind bends around the two women as they watch the other horses mingle. Potion’s lavender mane blows like a whip to the other side of her neck, her tail following with a snap. Ecco remains placid as her own tangles, wrapping around and around itself like pieces of a thick rope. Both stand tall and proud on the crest of a hill, a steep drop off at their feet, the forest to their backs. The grass beneath them prematurely yellows, a wide circle of decay that they take little notice of- it is so commonplace for the two. The chill is insubstantial at present, it is the gusts that lay waste to the land, blowing the leaves from the trees until the branches are bare.

    One such leaf finds itself nestled in Potion’s hair, the mare next to her touches it lightly with the tip of her nose, sending it crumbling into dust.

    “Don’t fuss over me Ecco, soon enough I’ll be able to go to the fairies and be restored.” The words were concrete, leaving her with a certainty and the younger mare heaved a sigh, turning her grey head back towards the scene below them. “I know,” she replied, her teeth clicking together at the end. “It’s just, ugh why must we wait. Go to him, I know he’ll help you too Mother, it’s not high price you should know you-”

    “Enough.” There was a firmness in her tone that stopped her daughter from continuing, a finality to the word and Ecco stopped short in her long winded tirade. Lectures from a child were the last thing she needed, to be retold a story she knew first hand was another unnecessary interaction. “Do not assume to retell me of your making, I was there,” she hissed, the breath leaking from her lips like a slow air leak. Ecco bit her tongue and took a moment to direct her attention elsewhere.

    “So, which one do you think won’t make the winter?” Ah yes, one of her favorite games and one her Mother would humor her with.

    Potion blinked, resettling herself and craned her neck over the ledge, scanning the drying meadow and the horses within it. “The bay, second to the left- no not the one with the blaze, there” she called as she watched her daughter’s eyes roam the gathered.
    dont you open up that window, dont you let out that antidote
    word count: 410 -accrued points: 26  -HTML by Call



    @[Deimos] um yeah, come chat with the girls
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    #2

    It had been some time. And yet, there was always that one that he couldn’t forget.

    The body. The one.

    He moved with a purpose, slinking through the trees like a silent fearsome thing—his mind plagued by her. Her very scent had burned his nostrils; her touch sent a flame to his ever rattling heart. He had made a pact that should have ended that night in the forest. Under black of night, they had found solace in each other… he had gained her body, and she had gained her power. Feeling her underneath him, the way she wiggled… squealed. He should have been able to forget.

    But there was always one.

    The fucker had a deathwish.

    And she had a mother.

    Black ears surveyed the landscape. He had been moving aimlessly these last months, his plans gone quiet like the embers of a dying fire… but the heat was ever dangerous. He had managed to stay away biding his time—and yet she was ever on his mind. And yet, he had never seen her again.

    Until today.

    He snarls, sliding a hoof forward and breaking into the clearing, willing a wind to ripple past her; the barest whisper alighting her ears.

    Pricking her soul with the poison of his blood.

    My little funeral pyre.


    DEIMOS
    cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
    HTML by Call



    OOC: I am sorry this is so short Sad
    Reply
    #3
    POTION & ECCO
    Ecco considers her Mother’s choice carefully, lavender eyes taking in the bay that looked to be on it’s last leg. Mother was terribly good at this game and she always struggled to find one better, to one up the woman with her selection. It takes her a moment, eyes searching the gathered, all their heads were down to the earth looking for food. Their bodies huddled together for warmth, a barrier of sorts to the wind and chill. “Oh, here we go,” she finally spots an older chestnut mare, thin and shaking like the leaves that were currently falling from the trees. “The chestnut with the socks, death is at her door Mother I don't know why-” she realized then what had happened.

    “You’re terrible,” she said flatly, voice filled with irritation. Potion laughed, loud and clear as they stood on the hill, those gathered nearest to their podium looked up with unease. Though the gray mare laughed they looked wary, dispersing further out into the cold field. It was odd for a woman to burst into giggles when everything had been otherwise silent, they were all too cold to gossip today. “You let me have that one, I can find one on my own thank you.” The daughter huffed though no one looking would know one was child and one was Dam, they appeared to be nothing more than two young mares, twins perhaps to the unknowing eye.

    And just for that Ecco sent her gift out into the Meadow, a thin trail of rotting grass was left in its wake until it twisted a coiled path to the bay and then to the chestnut. Without much thought she grabbed at them with it, sending her fatal touch up their legs until they fell to the earth, two rotting lumps of flesh. If it were warmer the flies would soon be at them, buzzing the song of their people as they relished in the decay. Needless to say the clearing was soon bare, like a pack of elk running from tiger in the grass. They knew not where the danger came from but they knew enough to flee it, to retreat before they too perished.

    A voice breaks their game, Ecco whipping her head to the sound with a smile. Potion can only glare in the direction her daughter slowly sways, she had not yet met the man that had both blessed and cursed her only child.

    “You’ve just missed the fun,” Ecco announced, as she swayed, stomach round with child. She curled around him like a kitten, “This is Mother Deimos, Potion,” her nostrils flared as she inhaled him, as if she could drain his very essence with one whiff but she would never. “Mother, this is Deimos,” it was a strong enough statement, almost a challenge, but it was evident she was seeking some sort of approval from the silver woman.

    “Is that so?” Potion asked, raising a brow and taking him in. “I don’t know whether to thank you or curse the very air you breathe.” Ecco’s head snapped to attention like a whip at that remark, looking between the two. “I’m sure time will tell,” she finally gave in and approached their intimate grouping.

    Time would always tell and she had ever so much of it.
    dont you open up that window, dont you let out that antidote
    word count: 571  -HTML by Call
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