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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]  Reflections
    #1
    The water was crystal clear, allowing Lindy to see the sunshine of her reflection, albeit rippled, as she dipped her muzzle down to take a drink from the lake. The rush of the waterfall provided a peaceful soundtrack for the mare to enjoy as she clung to the bank. She wasn't thirsty, but drinking gave her something to do. There were other horses around; some of them even seemed friendly, but upon arriving at the meadow she felt almost intimidated by the presence of others like her. It wasn't that she was anti-social. In fact, she was far from that! It was simply hard for the feathered mare to take the first step, especially in a new place with new sights and new smells to take in. It was, quite frankly, rather overwhelming and being by herself helped to keep her nerves in check. She had spent so long traveling, hoping to find a place that called to her soul. A place where she could settle and not only feel content, but feel wanted, useful, and a part of something bigger than herself. Wishful thinking for a mare like herself, with more bulk than height and a tendency to lose her confidence before she could actually act on it. This place, though... this place had a special feeling about it. She couldn't quite put a hoof on it, but there was just something about it.

    Now. If only Lindy could actually buck up and go talk to somebody. Instead of doing that intimidating task, she simply stared down at her reflection in the water, swishing her tail on occasion for no other reason aside from the fact that she could. This is what you were looking for, wasn't it? she asked herself in her thoughts, not wanting anybody to suddenly be in earshot and think she was crazy,A place to start a new chapter? A place to fit in? One of these steeds has to be able to open that gate for you... All she had to do was talk to somebody. Easier said than done for Lindy. Although, she was beginning to get frustrated at herself. Just do it! The thought was accompanied by a snort that sent water droplets flying and a very precise stomp of a back hoof. She was a friendly sort of horse. Why did it have to be so hard to approach somebody new? Perhaps she should cut herself a bit of slack. Her surroundings were new, the potential seemed limitless. Add onto it having to introduce herself to horses she never seen before and, well, it could be overwhelming.

    • This is awful, but I'm going to blame it on being exhausted rather than being completely out of practice writing horses and stuff like this. Open to anyone!
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    #2
    i think i'm better on my own but i get so lost in you
    She did not come to the field very often. Even when she had lived in Pangea, it was not in her nature to put forth much effort into things like recruiting, or really anything for the betterment of anything other than herself. The nomadic life was far more fitting for her ever-changing ways; there were so few things that could hold her interest for long before she flitted onto the next thing, and lands were no different. She would never admit how she loved that instead of tying themselves to a land, she and Thomas had made each other their homes. He was the only thing she was anchored to, the only one she had to worry about eventually returning to, and even he did little to actually make her stay.

    She didn't mind; she liked to think he knew that she would be back.

    Today, for a reason that she cannot fathom, she goes to the field. It was not her favorite place; the best stories took place elsewhere, but, sometimes she was curious to see what newcomers had stumbled across these ancient lands. The bloodlines here were such a twisted, tangled web, and it had become easy to pick out the certain attributes that ran with each one  –  the star-studded children of her father, the various lines of shadow-dwellers, dragons, and shapeshifters. It made the strangers easy to find, and when her impossibly dark eyes settle on the palomino and white mare – a plain color in comparison to the wild ones that were so prevalent here – she stops to observe her, tilting her delicate head.

    She contemplates for just a moment, standing there with the sun glinting off the galaxy-color of her skin, before approaching. “Hello,” she says once she is close enough, her black eyes mostly hidden by her shockingly white forelock, but there is a faint smile on her lips. She wasn’t very good at being friendly, per se, but she wasn’t known for being cruel, either, and there wasn’t any malice to her tone. “You’re new here, aren’t you.” It’s more of a statement – to someone that had been born here, it was obvious, and she didn’t much care about making assumptions anyway. “My name is Desire.”

    i think i'm better on my own but i'm so obsessed with you
    desire


    @[Lindy]
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