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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


    With my speechless calm eyes - any
    #1
    There's none so blind as those who will not listen.

    He’s a mess, and not a hot one to be more specific. The bad type of mess, the one that actually could cost him his life. Brynmor had not only lost his beloved home, family and sight, but also a lot of weight. Beqanna hadn’t been nice to him, not at all.

    He doesn’t blame her though, knows better than, this probably wasn’t what she had envisioned. Yes they got punished, but this extend, no, that was not the goal. He just was the guy that had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now he was paying the price.

    The meadow, the forest and the river, they had been his home, if you could call it such. They hadn’t been kind to him, which was clearly portrayed by the state of his body. Finding food – even in summer – had been hard, and it was even harder to find water. In his attempts to do so Brynmor had only hurt himself more. His front knees were bruised and cut, from all the times he had tripped. His sides aren’t unmarred either.

    Now he stood in the field, staring ahead into the darkness that was now his life. He enjoys the autumn sun on his skin, for once fearing the winter that would soon come. Cold had never bothered him, but with no fat on his body to keep him warm, the cold actually scared him. A soft breeze pulls on his graying tail, top darker while the bottom was almost completely white. Just as Brynmor would become, if he would ever reach that age.

    BRYNMOR

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