• Logout
  • 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


    Thread Rating:
    • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
    • 1
    • 2
    • 3
    • 4
    • 5
    [open]  staying under my weather all day
    #1
    Almost an entire year has passed since Sickle was last in the Pampas. Autumn had been in full swing then but it is only a hint on the cool morning air when she returns. She still isn’t sure this is the best idea, but she’s run out of places to go for answers.

    She’d run from Mazikeen until she could no longer breathe or feel the way the dragon’s talons had dug into her skin when she'd changed from phoenix to filly. The wounds had healed without her being aware of it, only when she had checked to see the damage did she realize there were only a few faint black scars that matched her brindling. And then she had lost herself in the forest. It took a long time to find Asterope’s pond but she had and she’d cried with relief and with the lingering fear that had settled on her for what felt like days.

    That piece of her remained with her friend in the pond when she’d left with a promise to return soon. Outside of that patch of forest, Sickle didn’t want tears. She didn’t want to be the stupid girl who had let herself be kidnapped three times. She needed to become something else, something more.

    Hyaline still burns in the back of her mind but she knows she isn’t brave or strong enough to go there on her own. Some days she wishes she had just stuck with Mazikeen because then she would’ve been with Malik. And maybe together they could have escaped their parents.

    The maybes and ifs build up until they choke her.

    She goes to Tephra first, trying to find who she still stubbornly calls mom despite the information she’d been given. But though she combs through every inch of the jungle, she only finds a few worried strangers and neither Wishbone nor any answers.

    And then, without really meaning to be, she’s back at the Pampas on a misty late-summer morning. She stands on the edge of the wildflower field with a frown, both trying to remember the fight she’d witnessed and trying not to. Were Skandar and Aela fighting to keep her here or just to protect each other? Was she always destined to be the same fool jerked around from one land to the next? Could she even trust the ones who had tricked her here?

    Sickle's frown deepens as her thoughts darken. She isn’t sure what she’s here for but now, with a bit of practice, her uncertainty no longer flashes in bright colours across her coat.

    At least, even if she doesn’t find an answer to her uncertainty, there are lots of flowers to pick from to bring back to Asterope.
    SICKLE


    @Aela & any!
    #2


    There are pieces strewn about on the shoreline of Elliana’s birth land. They dig deep in the sand like glass shards that are sharp enough to kill should they stand up like splinters. She is the only piece that made it out of there. She stands there as regret, hope, immortality, all tangled into the misshapen form of a girl.

    And she will never relearn all the other shapes she could have been, should have been. She will never get them back.

    Somewhere a bird starts to sing in a tree, and a rodent rustles into the grass.

    Another bird joins the song of the land and it settles something in her bones she did not realize had shaken loose.

    She would think it a sign of good fortune if she did not know any better. Elliana had always been wary of divination and prophecy. She blamed this in part on her mother, and her mentors and tutors and the stories they told. In them, the main characters were always just playing out their fate- or else it was the opposite, and they burst dramatically from the rails of destiny to swing in the opposite direction. Elliana found it… uninspiring. She didn't want to believe that everything in life was predetermined and thus bound to be followed or vehemently opposed; to be so black and white took the magic out of things, the mystery.

    In short, Elliana has been determined to find her own truth. She did not think it would be found in the stars, tarot card, tea leaves, or wandering shapes in clouds.

    She finds her in the wildflowers. Blue eyes peek from a mess of blonde hair. If there is a right way to burn, to encounter all the anger in this world, Elliana has not yet discovered it.

    “Am I intruding?” She asks quickly, quietly, like a ghost dashing behind the shadow of a doorway. “I was looking for dandelions to pick.” Something she once did with the Delumine sun on her back and Po weaving wildflowers at her feet. “They aren’t weeds you know,” she feels compelled to add. “They are flowers too.”

    find her with the flowers. the roses, the marigolds. find her telling stories that she’s never before told

    @Sickle




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)