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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


    [private]  not big on social graces
    #1

    I guess we're all gonna be what we're gonna be
    So what do you do with good ole boys like me


    The pair of ravens sat on the lowest branch of a wide oak. It’d been awhile since they’d been back here. Back home. Ozark didn’t really have an issue with his nomadic lifestyle.  It was lonely, sure, or it would be if he didn’t have Darla.  His raven companion had been with him since before he could remember - occupying his own thoughts since the very beginning.  His voice of reason, to be sure.

    But he’d been restless, so Darla had convinced him to come back and give the whole socialization thing another go.  He didn’t have to live a life as flighty as his Ma’s if itwasn’t what he wanted.  And deep down, Ozark wanted more for himself than he was willing to admit. 

    Darla looked at him expectantly, and with a huff, he leapt from the branch - shifting back to his true form before he reached the ground.

    It took him a minute to get accustomed to the size of his true body. He didn’t shed his wings when he shifted back to his true equine form. To be honest, he just felt wrong without them.  He shifted them unconsciously at his sides - giant feathered security blankets he refused to let go of.  Flight was as much a part of him as any of the other essential bits like blood or oxygen. He was a sloppy shifter, always retaining a smattering of feathers down his neck and back.  Hair just felt downright unnatural.  And dirty. But feathers? Feathers were clean and sleek. Highly preferable, if you had to ask. 

    He looked back to Darla, “Happy?” he rasped, using his true voice for the first time in ages.  The raven let out a single caw before leaving the branch and instead perching on the space between his ears.  Ozark simply huffed, ”Oh well ain’t that peachy. Thanks, Darla.” before turning his gaze back to the meadow and the sea of unfamiliar faces that awaited him.


      O Z A R K


    @[breach]
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    #2
    BREACH

    She always loved the skies. Loved the freedom that came with taking to the air and leaving the ground behind you—letting the world melt away. It did not take much to convince herself to shift into something with wings, to take to the sky, and today was no different. When she woke, she first shifted into an antelope, jumping across the Cove with giant, leaping steps, before she reached the water and quickly shifted into a hawk. Her shifts were getting cleaner and cleaner. Easier than before. She was able to connect more in a row without exhausting herself. Able to try on different sizes without so much strain.

    Her heart pounds in chest as her wings unfurl and she feels the air rush beneath her.

    The flight isn’t her longest, but by the time she lands, she feels exhaustion beginning to settle into her bones. It’s a pleasant feeling though, and she smiles as her body shifts, touching the ground with hoof instead of talon. She takes a moment to shake out her neck, feeling sweat chill the curve of it.

    It’s only then that she hears the rasping noise and she looks to the side, where she sees the boy talking to the raven. Her ears perk in interest as she walks closer. “Do birds talk back to you?” There’s almost a hint of teasing in her voice, but it’s drowned out by the genuine curiosity that lives there. There were stranger things, after all, than a boy who could talk to birds. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she’d ever seen.

    “My name is Breach,” she offers with a wide smile. “I can’t talk to birds, unfortunately.”

    Her dual-colored eyes sweep over to the raven, admiring the glossy black of the feathers.

    “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Darla, wasn’t it?”

    I want to swim until we both begin to feel the weightlessness sink in

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