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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


    On the edges of the sharpest knives [ANY]
    #1

    despite the overwhelming odds, tomorrow came

    I don’t know what had happened to the weeks following my “death”. I hid away. I wept. I hurt. In my anguish, the time passed in a blur. I forgot that my life contained other features, such as Taiga and my duties there, Amarine and other friendships, even my children. All of these things were left hidden in chambers of my shattered heart that I was wholly unprepared to enter. I was consumed by the anguish I had felt lying there on the cold ground, alone and abandoned in my time of need. Every time I even started to open those chambers, the agony poured through me once more, so I desperately tried to stay away from those reminders. Even still, I lived those weeks in a constant state of anguish.

    I found myself wandering far from home once more. With nothing to keep me grounded, however, I took in nothing around me, and eventually I would come to realize that I was lost, so even when I did start to feel ready to face those things in my life, I realized that there was not much I could do about them. And so I wandered aimlessly in directions I hoped would bring me someplace familiar.

    One morning, I crest the top of a rather large hill that looks out across a vast expanse. On the far side is a mountain. The Mountain. The sight sends shivers down my spine for all the memories that it provokes within me, but it also brings a sense of hope. This was familiar.

    Over the next few days, I made my way toward home, trying not to think about all the feelings this brings up, focusing on getting back to Wit instead. My shoulder still aches dreadfully. I don’t think it has been healing, but rather getting worse as the days stretch on. It had become difficult to put weight on it, but even so, the ache in my heart is worse, so I push through the pain and continue to limp forward, driven by a motherly need to get back to my son.

    When I hit the border of Taiga, however, I could sense there was something wrong. Something in my gut told me that something is amiss here. I push forward, though. I throw my head to the wind and draw in a long, deep breath, trying to register the scents of those around me. There are many familiar scents, including Yanhua’s and Amarine’s, but Wit’s is not there.

    Trying not to panic, I move into the territory, dragging my leg as best I could. It takes a while, but I make my way from one end of the territory to the other, still with no signs of my son. I continue my efforts to not panic, but that becomes increasingly harder with each step I took, with each breath that presented no signs of him. “Wit!” I call out here and there. I send emotional echoes into the world around me, in hopes he would sense them and come to me, but he does not. I pass others that live within the territory, and I plead with them for information, but no one has seen him since I had left.

    Eventually, the panic overcomes my efforts to keep it at bay, and I freeze, unable to move through a sudden, overwhelming fear that envelops me–that is, until my shoulder completely gives out on me. In a yelp of pain (both from the shoulder injury and the emotional anguish), I crumble forward to the ground. Unsure of what else I can do, I lay there and cry.

    Borderline

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    #2
    Bardot
    I know what sin is

    Taiga has become a home in a way. It would never rival the Amazons but it was enough. Yan and Amarine had been kind enough although she had noticed that the goatish stallion had been acting odd as of late. She had come across him a few times at a distance as he seemed to mutter to shadows and she would watch as the hen nestled in his mane would peck at his forehead in annoyance. A strange sight for sure and one that left her with a lingering unease. She was no Healer and has nothing to give her insight to his current state of mind and so she simply leaves him be, figuring his mate Amarine is the best suited to help him through whatever it is he’s going through.

    She had yet to meet the other wife of Yanhua, (she was in fact ignorant that there was another wife entirely as it had not come up in the discussion when she had met Ama) or any of the others that called the tall woods home and so when she hears a cry ringing through the forest, she is intrigued enough to follow it. She thinks she hears the word “Wit” and wonders if someone is calling for their sanity. By the time she comes across the crumpled mare sobbing uncontrollably, she wonders if she has come to live among a kingdom struck by madness.

    As her golden gaze takes in the gray dappled mare, she can’t help but think how her Sisters of old would look at such an obvious act of weakness with dismay. While she feels a twinge of pity for whatever this creature is going through, the Amazonian in her becomes incredibly uncomfortable with this open display of grief and she sighs impatiently as she comes to stand in front of her and stamps a hoof against a rock to get her attention. “Crying will not solve whatever ails you stranger.” She says firmly but not unkindly. “Now enough of that. Pull yourself together and tell me what the problem is and maybe I can help you.” If this mare begins to act strangely as well then perhaps it was time to seek greener pastures before madness took ahold of her too.

    They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
    html © dante.


    @Borderline
    [Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]
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