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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


    All things are possible: any
    #1

    All things are possible, even the worst of things.

    He is awake early. The sun is just peeking over the distant horizon as he approaches the meadow, footfalls drumming a steady rhythm against the hard-packed earth. An occasional leaf flutters down from the broad canopy above, steadily adding to the growing carpet of orange, red, and yellow leaves littered across the ground. The scattered foliage helps to muffle the sounds of his blunt hooves, easing their impact against the oft traveled path.

    Streaks of gold and pink are spreading across the sky as he steps foot into the space he had so often frequented in his youth. Chocolate brown eyes survey his surroundings with curiosity before he lets out a heartfelt sigh. He had become rather fond of this place. He had met many a friend here.

    He is not here today for any specific purpose. In fact, he has very little reason to be here, other than nostalgia. His gaze easily finds the small copse where he had first met Librette. Meeting her had been a turning point in his young life. He still misses her. As unlikely as their friendship had been, he has yet to find anyone he might consider a closer friend than she had been. Except perhaps Val. But that is an entirely different can of worms.

    No, he is here merely to reminisce. His life is once again turning in an entirely new direction, and for a moment, he wishes only to pause and reflect. Halting next to a massive, scarred oak, he leans his large, sinewy body against it. The bark roughly scrapes against his skin, scattering bits of wood dust across his speckled pewter frame. He pays this no mind however. His thoughts are too caught up in distant memories to care, brown gaze absent and unfocused.

    shahrizai

    hestoni x scorch

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