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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


    Turn down the lights;Khaos [any]
    #1


    She stretched, looking out of the cave she had bedded in with bleary eyes. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, turning the sky soft purple before orange. Her stomach turned and she groaned in protest, releasing its contents into the sand.

    Ugh, she hadn't yet decided if becoming with foal had been a bright idea or not. Sure, it would tie her even more closely to her stallion. Might provide her with an heir for him, with bond their blood in this world and on to the next. But really, who in their right mind would suffer this in return?

    Killgore had settled battles, learning from a young age that only the strong could survive. She had raised herself from the platform that would lead her to be a broodmare for her fathers soldiers, and had instead fought to earn her place. She had hardened her heart, and her soul for that matter, selling it to whatever devils she could will to show her favor on the field. She had taken life, for gains, sometimes for nothing in return. Well, now that wasn't true, she did enjoy it. Yet here she was, with child, for once creating life. Of course the act itself had been...marvelous. If she could, she would gladly choose to spend her life like that,for all days. Perhaps a bit of taunting that silly Ghoest in between, you know, a girl needs a little variety.

    Her mate was an excellent specimen for breeding, so she had consented with little fuss. She was convinced he would bring her strong children, special children that would better her line. Well, his too she supposed. It was a shame he had had far too little offerings to bear him his chidren, but of course that fact had provided a little spice in life. Perhaps he knew, perhaps he didnt, but she seen the coupling with the silver dapple. The one who had bawled like an infant, and Killgore well, she had laughed. What a sickeningly stupid little mare, wandering around as she had. Passing their borders, what had she been doing here anyways? Buy a map next time stupid girl. Served her right, she snorted as she walked towards the surf. Killgore needn't worry, the child would be likely no consequence to her own. A feeble nasty little beast, just like its mother she confirmed to herself with a chuckle.

    She stood at the tide, letting the water lap over her obsidian hooves. The salt air tossing her mane around, and she inhaled the ocean air. The scent of seaweed, and fish had grown to be a familiar one. A welcome one.  Ah, but where was her metallic master? The day was new, and they had trouble to stir. She nickered at the cliffs, scanning them for his iron reflection.






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    #2
    He is pleased with his results this autumn.

    So far he has managed to couple with six mares (up two from the previous season), which means that, come spring, he should have six children running about Beqanna. And this time, he will even be able to watch some of the children grow.

    It’s one of the added bonuses of finally having gathered mares to live in his herd. He will get to watch three of his children grow up, first hand, and will get to see for himself if any of them are special. He certainly hopes some of them are.

    He has particularly high hopes for the one from Killgore. The bay beauty is quite the personality, and she’s healthy and strong - the kind of mare meant for producing heirs (rather unlike the cowed Ghoest). She, out of all of them, would be the most likely to give him a talented child, surely?

    He is mulling over this thought when a familiar scent is brought to his nose by the warm ocean breeze. Killgore is nearby. He grins. Speak of the devil …

    He tracks the scent, following it through the hills to the cliff. He stops there, to, well, admire the view. Killgore looks quite at home now, in amongst the rock and the spray. Her sides are only just beginning to show a hint of swelling with the child within. It won’t be long before she starts getting fat, but it’s a necessary evil.

    He whinnies at her, then follows the little path off the cliff and down to the beach to join her. His muzzle trails along her dark side, but there’s no chance of a kick yet. “How are you and our … little bundle of joy doing?”
    K H A O S
    iron son of carnage and oswyn
    hell is empty and all the devils are here
    Reference here
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    #3


    She doesn't wait horribly long when the metal beast makes an appearance, sliding his way down familiar paths to meet her below. The tide slowly curls around her pillars, she is just near enough for high tide to swallow her to her canons. She found the sea quite refreshing in the early morning hours, the cool waters had just enough chill to kick start the day. She doesn't even flinch as he drags his beak across her side, she has no need to, their relationship an entirely different one among his harem. She has actually grown to welcome his touch. The strange iron caress she found intoxicating, she could only hope that they would never end. She could be quite the jealous lover when threatened, but the others that had so blindly followed him did not seem to consume to much of his time.

    This did not keep her from expressing just how she intended for things to be. Sometimes she would kick the others, just because she could. Other times she would taste their flesh biting at anything within reach, she whole-heartedly disliked the lot of them. They were necessary however, and so she endured the irritant."It is a wonder that I've ballooned at all."she responded rather flatly, obviously not fond of the way her sleek frame had expanded. "With the very little I keep down, I should be losing weight by now." She felt a huge cow already, having been keen to keep a slim lady like figure. Boy would she be in for it within the coming months for this was nothing compared to the size she would reach in the end. She brushed her muzzle against his shoulder when it was near enough, scenting his iron skin in the process. She enjoyed that smell, yes she did, it reminded her of the metallic smell of blood.

    "I do hope your morning is faring well, any business to attend to?" She may as well have said, 'Is there anyone who needs punishment dear? Id love to watch, I'd love to help.' But she didn't say that, she hadn't the need to.





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    #4
    He must admit, he likes the swelling of her sides. She might not be terribly impressed with it, but to him it’s a sign of the legacy growing within - the son or daughter that will carry on his blood through Beqanna. And who knows, it could be the child inside her that carries on his iron appearance as well. It’s about time he had a proper heir, after all. His children so far have all been disappointments.

    He smiles into her side, wondering at the child within. He will know soon enough, but he does not like the wait. “Ah, but it becomes you. You look beautiful.” Or at least he enjoys the look on her. She is beyond beautiful to him, in a way - she is like him.

    She asks after his morning, and he draws his muzzle away from her belly. “Quite well thank you. And yours?” He has not done anything in particular, besides the usual check in on Ghoest. Just to make sure he is a constant presence in her life, and to check in on the roan mare’s growing belly. He doesn’t have particularly high hopes for that child, considering its mother, but you never know. “Nothing in particular, my lady.” Though his thoughts immediately drift back to the cowed Ghoest. “Have you had the chance to meet any of the other herd mares yet?” It would be interesting, he thinks, to see the two of them interact - proud, strong Killgore and fragile, pathetic Ghoest. Does Killgore enjoy physical torture, or only the psychological?
    K H A O S
    iron son of carnage and oswyn
    hell is empty and all the devils are here
    Reference here
    Reply
    #5



    She turned from him.

    Beautiful. How ever was this beautiful? She would end up a fat cow in the end, and would be lucky to retrieve her slim figure. He spoke of beauty at a time like this, but she hung on every compliment. Relishing in the simplicity of it all, sucking up each gratification with a pointed grace. Mmm yes my love, I am beautiful, she purrs to herself inwardly only fueling the flame. His touch is like fire to her skin, causing a series of conflicting emotions. She wanted to strike him, she wanted to ravish him, for that sickeningly sweet embrace go hold her again.

    It was like candy when Killgore had learned of his power over iron. She wanted him to hold her with it, and she would ask ever so nicely.To grasp the element within her, constricting her heart, each breath. Holding her until she had almost reached the brink, and then realising her ever so slowly, each breath caught in her maw with an urgent gasp. Her dark orbs alight with a beastial hunger.

    Nothing of importance he may have said, though he did comment that his morning was faring well. That was good, though she had always liked him best when the others had soured his mood. There would be chance for that still, as he offered her to meet the others, her ears rotating forward, intruiged. "Oh yes lets," she was practically giddy.  "I want to see the one who cries,"she insisted. Her maw was almost salivating, she had been waiting for her chance for an up close and personal get together.



     
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    #6
    She turns from him when he calls her beautiful, and he’s instantly confused. Is it not what you are supposed to tell mares when they feeling insecure? Tell them they are beautiful and stunning? That you worship the ground beneath their feet? And he’d even been earnest in his own way - it had taken no guile to bring that word from his lips. He does indeed enjoy the look on her - it’s proof of the child within. Their child.

    But he does not press the issue. Even though Killgore is, well, Killgore - fiery and wonderfully cruel in her own right - she is still a mare. And mares are not always rational, especially when they have a child in their belly.

    She does perk up however when he mentions the other mares one he can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. There is the mare that first caught his interest in the field. There is the cruel and malicious being whose presence he enjoys so well.

    “Ah, you must mean Ghoest!” Noellen had cried as well, but not near so wonderfully as darling, pathetic Ghoest. He quivers when he remembers the expression that she’d had on her face when he’d carved into her with his horn. Perhaps he should do so again … and maybe even let Killgore in on the fun. Perhaps it will do their child some good for its mother to engage in some bloodletting while it’s still in utero. “She can be quite amusing. Let me call for her.” He raises his voice, calling out for the roan mare. She better respond, and quickly, or it will be all the worse for her later.
    K H A O S
    iron son of carnage and oswyn
    hell is empty and all the devils are here
    Reference here




    @[Ghoest]
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