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
Sail on, silver girl; Any
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08-27-2017, 02:06 PM
She had never been drawn here, but somehow now, she finds herself here. Within the depths of series silence, within the den where children are lost and forgotten she wanders. Something pulling her forwards, forcing her lavender limbs to trudge forwards, step by step, shuffle by shall. All that was to be heard, was the steady steps of a graceful wanderer, within the arid atmosphere. Her hazel glaze flickering too and fro, in search of movement, but why? She had no need for parenthood, no need for children, she was a nomad. She held a sweet prolific life, all on her lonesome, wandering her days aimlessly through the common lands, never stopping, never settling. She had no need for children, for she knew a child could never keep up with her movements, and although she may seem self centered, the purple painted mare, was perhaps more selfless than any other, one would come across, despite her rather care free demeanor. But some how, she is here. She trudged forwards, her pastel mane, liquefying slowly, as drops of her body slowly dripped away. Her essays still surveying, until she finds herself near stream where, a small sooty body lay near. Her nostrils flare, as she moves forwards swiftly, lowering her pale violet cranium, allowing droplets of her own mane to collect within the blades of grass, as streams of alabaster toned water dripped down her forehead. The aroma of wet dog is thickly layered in the air, as she nears the child, with such hesitance, as if she were afraid of the child, the nares of her pink nostrils flare gently against the child's damp side. Her pale velvet muzzle, inches away from touching the child but she restrains herself, maternal instincts gingerly block all of her senses. "Hello, are you lost?" She breaks the silence, her words are sweet and rough like whiskey. As her pearl lobes, swivel towards the child in curiosity.
09-06-2017, 04:55 PM
the sun, it rises slowly as you walk away from all the fears and all the faults you've left behind
09-09-2017, 08:13 PM
Despite The little girl's rather sweet, and perhaps even adorable appearance, she has quite the attitude, in fact Felicity is even tempted to walk away, she hardly had time for a child who protested to her every word, especially if this kiddo was to come wandering with her, it would be quite the burden to drag a stubborn child through Beqanna. Her gaze forms a glare, hard and stone cold as she is not very pleased, with the little filly's attitude. Her nostrils flare, and her body ceases to liquify, revealing her vivid spindle like body frame dotted with very angular white patches. The little girl then rants on why she's wet, her tone rather whiney and plumed with sass. Proclaiming that a rock tried to drown her in the rather shallow river. Her eyes roll, as her decision to leave seems defiant now, as this child is not worth her time and effort. Felicity lifts her cranium without haste, her limbs moving away from the child, but just before she finds herself to leave, the girl has a change in heart as polite vocals enter her lavender lobes, and it looks like the girl has quickly caught on to her disgust, changing her tone and position within the rather short conversation. She introduces herself as Ciarran, a rather peculiar name for such a "Polite" child, her gaze returns to the filly, remaining silenced for moments before her words are released, "It's a pleasure to meet you Ciarran. I am Felicity." The introduction is short, and simple. She pauses for a moment, pondering, so far the girl has showed little respect, and that attitude of hers is rather appalling, but despite her flaws she seems nice enough, and she is quite intelligent in her efforts to catch onto Felicity's annoyance, and disgust. Before concluding, on the idea of perhaps having this kiddo as company on her travels, she must know one thing. if this kid isn't lost then how the hell did she wind up here? Her eyes flicker about, "Well, if your not lost. Then how did you wind up here?" She questions, her body beginning to relax once more and liquify as it had previously. Ughhhh it's crap, i know
10-01-2017, 09:14 PM
Dripping lavender lobes flicker to the little winged girl's words, her gaze still unchanged, cold, hard. Yet it does begin to soften, like ice does under the pressure of heat. Her maternity instincts continue to soften that gaze of hers, and some how she caves a smile forming upon her pale lips. "I won't leave you." She responds words sweetened by the girl's sudden change in heart. She chuckles as Cia adds on, "And yes, I'm taking you with me. I couldn't just leave you out here, could I?" In her mind she scowls at her sweet words, what was this? This warm feeling bubbling beneath her surface, and affection pouring out every pore within her body. As her instincts take full control of her mind's choices, her body's movements. "No, I don't have a home Cia. I go where I want on my own terms, I never stay in one place too long." She hints to the future that Cia will be following in, perhaps Cia will even grow to enjoy such a thing, as working on her own terms. But when the girl reaches for one of her feathers and plucks from her own skin, her thoughts halt, silence engulfing her, and only Cia speaks. Her words echoing between Felicity's ears, as she watches the girl extend the feather towards her, her dripping body hesitant to take it, but with a quick movement she grasps it between ivory teeth. Gingerly reaching back, pressing it against her lavender toned pelt, grazing it across like a paint brush, dying the feather of her skin tone. Before reaching towards the girl, with one step forwards and a gentle touch she tucks the feather behind the little girl's left ear, entailing it in her mane."It's yours." She states simply, turning her body in the direction of the exit of this. Her cranium twisting towards the girl, "Well come on Cia." |
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