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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


    This ain't a scene, it's a god damn arms race // Eyas
    #8

    I've got you deep in the heart of me

    -So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me-

    at first she was genuinely surprised he could recall that far back, even if they’d only encountered each other a few times. Nothing about her seemed memorable, at least not to her. Aside from what she’d done to him in the Forest, anyway. But here Santana stood, recalling the garbled mess she’d talked to him about when Eyas had been half-delirious from hunger and lack of sleep. His wing brushed against her own, the leathery skin and the taloned bone incompatible with her own soft, inky feathers, but she hardly felt disturbed by the sensation. She only shrugged. “Er, yeah. I guess that’s what I was asking, more or less.”

    Perhaps the beast wasn’t such a thick-headed imbecile? Perhaps he was just as much a stallion as he was a dragon: capable of understanding and feeling?

    Maybe not, she smiled privately to herself when he spoke up about his sire. There was a sinuous, steely strength in every curve of his well-toned body that showed when ‘Tana leapt aside with a powerful buck. Even as a horse it was hard to deny the ripple of absolute power that simmered just under his snow-patched coat. Eyas herself was still far away from an ideal body weight, though Gale and his grapples, mangroves, and sweet grasses had done a number on her ribs and hips. Still, she would never look like that - the way Santana looked. Her bones were made of more delicate things.

    Sensing her fragility now that Eyas had planted herself directly underneath the wide curve of his masculine jawline, Santana actually seemed to calm down. The mare underneath him watched the joy fade into seriousness, and in response a flicker of melancholy darkened her expression. But what he said made perfect sense, and she blinked away the minute surprise in favor of a stiff nod. Of course he wouldn’t want to stay; it sounded so abrupt and aggressive now that she thought back on the offer. If she could blush, she might’ve.

    “Yep.” The pegasus confirmed, rustling her displaced feathers a bit before tucking them down onto her sides once more. Lightly, she passed alongside him and came to stand just where the white-capped foam was slinking up the beach in search of her hooves. She didn’t have to pull from his memory or offer a glimpse of her own. The charred tree he talked about was a land marker, meant for border purposes, and she’d passed it plenty of times in her youth. “Expect the unexpected.” She warned him, not bothering to look over her shoulder again.

    “And Santana?” Eyas called out, choosing that moment to turn her cheek and address him full-on, “Thank you.”

    EYAS



    @[Santana]
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    RE: This ain't a scene, it's a god damn arms race // Eyas - by Eyas - 05-18-2020, 01:52 PM



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