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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


    Bellum ; Any
    #1

    Krigare

    It had been weeks since the stallion had left the Tephran borders. For weeks the traveling beast within him was content with the fiery heat of the lands, though it grew restless and brought him here. The forest. The night reigned proud over the lands, the trees dark shadows casted across the curved slopes of the stag's face. He awaited others patiently, dark tendrils curling softly around the scarred expanse of his legs. The land beckoned him queitly, nothing but the soft croak of the frogs to break up the silence. He reveled in the peace of the woods, allowing its seclusion to queel his nerves. recently he had allowed the Tephra to be his home, he had even met someone. But that was not him. His very blood was laced with malice, and destruction. Not whatever it was he had created. He craved the things he ran from. Roads, fights, clashing teeth, and sweat coated pelts. The whirlwind of the past monhs had shoved these tendences deep into the corners of his mind. Within three days he had fallen for someone, and found out he was a father. Him. A father. It happened by chance. The moment he left the Tephra he heard the cries of his son. The anguish of abandonment seeping deep into his bones. He approached, thinking nothing of it until he saw the child. Others had reached him first. A stallion and a mare whom wre clearly not the bay child's parents. He was a spitting image of the bay stag, green hues peering out of hooded eyes , his pelt broken up with white splotches (courtesy his mother). If it had been any other child he would have gone on his way, but he knew. He knew this child was his. He also knew that he would not approach. He would allow the others to whisk him away to something greater. He could not do this for the boy. Not now. The memories of that night only a week before fled the bays mind, regret flooding his body. His head turned to the sky, thanking the stars quietly for sending someone to his boy. The world had given that child something Krigare couldnt have, a father. 

    (OOC:Unedited Post)

    [Image: krigare_by_voltum-dbctewi.png]
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