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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


    Cletus take the reel
    #11
    The Golden Princess
    I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale, I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet, Lead her up the stairwell This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town, I was a dreamer before you went and let me down, Now it's too late for you and your white horse to come around




    Tossing her head playfully towards his question, she definitely had to work on his vocabulary if they were to return to the Gates. " Just call me your mother. " she paused ears pricked hearing the warning calls of swallows faintly. " There is no need for formality between us, considering your just a small colt sweetheart." she nuzzled him once more. Now hers the colt would be a load of care yet, also something to keep her occupied while she made friends in her new home.

    Gently propping her hind hoof at a ninety degree angle she leaned her weight on her left side. " Shall we be off?" she spoke intently of returning home and on the way teaching Johnathen a brief vocabulary lesson. 

    Turning away from the colt, she made a direct signal that she intended on leaving before dark would set in on the late afternoon. If they stayed any later she and her child would, be easy pickings for any predator that wished to mess with the two. Stopping a few lengths away from the colt she awaited him to join either behind her or at her side, either way she would be pleased that he was at least following her home.

    Her dark burgundy coat twitched as a fly landed upon her flank as she patiently waited for him, golden locks of mane formed curls flecked with small snowflakes. Her veins pulsed tentative to walk without him and hope he'll eventually catch on to following, he was probably not used to the concept considering his mother died three days ago yet, it might be a vague memory for him.

    Her impatience consuming her thoughts she was reminded that she was once a foal and a slow learner at that and, if she wanted him to learn fast that wouldn't help either. Gently turning around and striding towards the colt she nudged his flank gently, " We must leave." she spoke softly allowing herself to nip the end of his rump lightly. Not to come on too forceful, she just wanted him moving before it hit sunrise, and the sky darkened having nothing to illumine there path back to the gates.

    becca

    image © nathan walker
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    #12
    When Mama turned to leave, I quickly followed. I slipped and fell as I turned into just legs. As I gathered myself. Then, when I was upright again, she nipped my rear. Not hard, like most mothers, but gently. I has a burst of energy and galloped as far as she said I could, then stoped. "C'mone, ya slow poke!" I said, trying to lighten her mood.
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