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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]  waiting for that morning sun; Splendora
    #1

    Time is meaningless when one has not aged in well over a century. He cannot quite say how long it has been since the sun returned, but he knows it must have been a few years at least. It’s so much easier to track time by events rather than the turning of days when one has so many of them.

    He enjoys the sun now far more than he has in the past. There is something in experiencing such far reaching darkness that makes even a creature as old as he appreciate the light. Though his appreciation had perhaps been expounded by his newfound circumstances.

    He cannot be sure when it had begun, only that since the darkness, storms have become something of a troubling occurrence for him. The mere thought brings a frown to his lips and a crease to his stern brow. Hurricane has never cared much for the overt magics of this realm, but it seems the fates have taken this opportunity to play a cosmic joke at his expense.

    Perhaps they had thought it amusing to see a creature named Hurricane given the ability to attract and dispel lightning. Or perhaps it is merely a grand coincidence and he is reading far too much into it.

    But Hurricane does not believe in coincidences.

    Now however - with the sun high, the sky bright, and no storm clouds looming on the horizon - is not the time to linger on it. He will enjoy this peace while he can. With a sigh, Hurricane shifts in the space he had selected - a quiet corner of the meadow where he is less likely to be disturbed while sunning himself. Spreading the pale feathers of his wings, he relaxes them into a wide spread, allowing the sun to warm their broad expanse.

    He would worry about the fates later.

    quiet now, you're gonna wake the beast

    hide your soul out of his reach

    Hurricane



    @splendora
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