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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


    [open]  the war was lost, treaty signed (healings!)
    #1

    No one ever talks about the Cove under a harvest moon, the orange paints the rock, the waves and shore’s pebbles like the licks of a steady flame. It is the middle of the night and the moon, pregnant and bright, lights the ground below and everything shifting beneath it. Beyond the safety of the Cove’s borders there is violent raucous. Screaming, growling, moaning – fear and suffering. Kota has family out there, a daughter, a father; but they’re either surviving or died and there is nothing that can be helped on either account, right? Her heart crumples inside the warm cavity of her chest, but above the surface she is a stone-faced woman with her glass blue eyes rolling from east to west.

    She lets out a call, a whinny of several layers and trailing repeats. It is loud and echoes off of the oily cliffsides, her voice unhindered by hoarseness or breakage. They are her people and she has ability to heal them of their suffering. She cannot fix them, but she can ease their physical pains. Her magic is mostly of light and brightly colored smoke. Ribbons of yellow light pour from her ribs and her chest, swirling and wrapping all around her pale ink-smeared body. In the darkness it will be bright and it will call them, draw them in, everyone knows magic is the only savior to be had these days. She waits for them to come and as they gather, she lets a thick cloud pale blue smoke roll from her feet and spread to hang around the group’s ankles. The smoke will reach all of them eventually and their skin (starting with their ankles) will begin to tingle. The sensation is a minty, cold tingle, and it will creep up their legs as the smoke rises in long skinny tentacles to wrap around their knees. The beams of light break from Kota’s body to find a host, one or two for each body depending on the severity of their symptoms. The strings of light bend and dance cheerfully over their wounds, turning colors depending on whomever they’re working on. 

    She stays silent, watching them as her limited help does what it can to help. 


    Kota
    those great whites,
    they have big teeth



    come get healed! well sorta, get relief - but you're still infected!
    you can show up and leave or talk to her.
    sorry if the post is confusing.
    take all the liberties you need in replying, you can PP her if you need (nothing cray, duh)

    <3


    Reply
    #2
    Warlight




    Warlight had adapted to a nocturnal schedule in the days after the sickness had seeped into her bones. The daylight, the others, it was all too much when the fever was on her; it was easier to become a creature of the night.  And of course, the way her once beautiful pelt had grown patchy and thin was somewhat obscured in the silver midnight light. 

    She is alone in the northern stretches of her new homeland, the place where the sweet, soft hills grow hard and fierce. It is a place where she can see Nerine on still mornings once the fog has burned off, a place which reminds her of the rugged peaks of Hyaline. 

    The healer's call finds her as she drifts between sleep and wakefulness, but it is enough to convince her to stand. At first, the bedraggled princess tells herself she is only going to go and see who has called, not to intervene in their affairs, but once is close enough to seethe tendrils of colorful smoke they lure her closer. 

    Once her mind is made up, Will steps boldly into the healers magic, here blue-black eyes closing as it begins to flow into her skin. She had been missing Raul in more ways than one, but the current of healing energy is enough to sooth away much of her physical pain the way he had before he left.

    When her midnight eyes open again they search for those of the healer, and she draws her first clear breath in weeks. "Thank you," she mummers, stepping forward to briefly press her muzzle to that of the other in appreciation. 

    This was exactly what she needed to use her own magic for another necessary trip. 

    — soul as sweet as blood red jam —

    [Image: Warlightpageddoll1.png]
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