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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


    cock of the rock
    #1

    He lightly paws at the dirt as his tiny head fidgets left and right. Is that a rock? Is it a delicious little seed? He hastily pecks it up into his small yellow beak and devours it regardless. Alas, a rock - tasteless and dry as the other five. Ophanim gives a thoughtful cluck as he struts across the Cove, comb wobbling with each step. Maybe Starhen would know where to find some delicious seeds for him to feast on. In fact, she probably knew where to find some little grubs just waiting to be devoured.

    He fluffs the feathers over his crop and gives an ear-splitting crow as he waddles to their roost. Immediately, thirty chicks of varying colors and patterns come rushing to their father with a chorus of peeps. Half of them have halos that sway and bounce around their fluffy heads while the other half have freckles of starlight tucked in their chick-feathers.

    Ophie gives each of their brood a gentle peck on the top of their heads and he adoringly vomits food into their eager beaks. Satisfied with his attentions and feeding, they skitter back to their nest and settle in for a nap. He gives a gentle series of clucks as he prances to the beautiful gray hen awaiting him. She’s got a beak that could snatch an eye right out of a socket and talons that would slice a heart to ribbons, and he loves that about her. He gently preens at the short feathers along the back of her neck.

    “Ba-gok,” he mumbles sweetly.

    @[Starsin]
    Reply
    #2

    and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.

    Starhen is sitting contentedly in the little dust hole she had scratched into the ground, thinking about her morning. So far she has already blown up three swallows and a squirrel, and it’s not even noon. That would be considered a productive day by any means, but she feels as though she has slacked off a little. She had really wanted to get rid of that bunny burrow, but the squirrel ended up taking more time than she had thought. And t’s Sunday, as Ophie had reminded her — the day of their lord and savior Canrage, and it should be a day of rest.

    She could go blow up those annoying bunnies later. She freaking hated bunnies. She hated anything that got too close to their nest area, unless it was a worm. Then she had to eat it before any of those kids spotted it.

    Fluffing up her feathers, she clucks softly at the sight of Ophie. He was so handsome, with the prettiest plumage and the biggest cox...comb she had ever seen. She settles in next to him, doing that creepy little head tilt chickens do when he ba-gocks at her. “You have such a way with words. You’re like a poet.”

    starhen

    it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted.
    ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )

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