Lead Me On

[Amity]

Daggers sliced into the loamy terrain that resided under flora decor, pistons pressed the golden figure across the widest fields and the heaviest rains to get here, to this place were the free were always allowed to roam, no matter what the path they had chosen to take through-out their future lives. Many elders and wise-men had told the mare stories of Galloping Free, how their great grandparents had roamed there once, but it had grown dead and empty at times when the paradise had been forgotten by the many herds of the world. When she was a young foal she was told those stories, and had since then destined to go there.. and here she was, on the borderlines of paradise..

Nostrils flared as Amity took in the thick aroma of unclaimed mares and musky stallions. It was a familiar scent, from her past home, so it refreshed her as the heavenly buckskin mare pondered amongst the mountain. As she reached a clearing, the vixen bounded in long leaps with excitement to the partially flat area. With a light, vibrant whinny Amity rushed towards a small herd of knee-high wheat strands. Velveteens nipped up a miniscule mouthful of tastey vegetation. As soon as she enveloped the food, she shook herself free of dirt and loose flecks of golden and black shedding.

Lungs pumped with gulps of fresh oxygen as the vixen stood on the direct edge of the clearing, preparing herself to cry out for a stallion to come to her and take her breath away. Breast muscles tightend, light head tossing back for lungs to erupt with a wonderous whinny into the forest air. Upper strength pounding against her fuzzy coat as she breached against gravity in a joyous rear, soon to fall again after her musical cry. Amity stuck her soft kissers into the crisp sky, listening to the faint echos of the last call she gave out into the brisk late morning.

[‡nevåeh‡]

[Amity]

Ebonized banner wavered amongst her hindquarters, kissers brushing against the soft soil as she razored the terrain with pedestals -- the beautiful, graceful mare awaiting a handsome brute to come to her side amongst the flat clearing. Crown raised, tossing light mane a bit as she looked voer her shoulder elegantly to see a nearby stag. Lungs quivered with a soft nicker, pistons turning the slim body around. Deep-set brown illusionaries eyeing the stallion anxiously. Crown lowered low to the sod in a respectful bow. Whip cord slashed at her upper pistons to rid the nasty winged pests that shrouded the vixen's form.

"Hello, m'lord.." The sweet, kind voice spoke as she took a set of steps forward towards the handsome beast. "I am Amity.." Auditives withered atop her skull as she listened to surroundings and awaited the stag's response to her bouncy, lively lyrics. Maybe he would be just as exciting as her, loving to play and gallop freely through wide, safe plains. Or would he pull her into a deathly grasp and rid her of her freedom, the reason she had come here to Galloping Free? Hopefully he wouldn't, or her life would be disastrous since she had never learned to properly fight.. especially with a stallion.

Yet, Amity hoped strongly that the stallion would sweep her away to live freely in a welcoming, cozy home with many other mares and stallions that are equally friendly and exuburant. Life here would be good, she was sure of it. Every nerve in her bodice tingled with anxious joy for the near future with this brute -- unless she was to be fought over, with no say from this lovely mare. Truely she wasn't that wonderful, and she knew that. Buckskin Russian Trotters weren't the favorite of every male, a lot of them enjoyed silver Arabians or graceful Gypsy Cobs with skewbald or piebald coloring on their soft, sleek coats.

[‡nevåeh‡]

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His occs scurried to catch her latest motions edging toward his enlarged frame. A thin gaze was given full-attention toward her. Amity. It rung rapidly through his laboring mind. It seemed familiar to him in some way but he couldn't quite pin point where he had heard such a beautiful name. Snapping back into present's rocking time, he pondered. She seemed full of energy. Still young, indeed. Of course he enjoyed the adreniline rush of whisking the laom free of it's loose dirt and feeling the crisp air savoring his peltry. A dark soul was the one to rob her of her viginity and freedom, not a lonely beast as himself. He was out of the ordinary in some way actually. He didn't savor the elegant, silver arabs. Or the graceful, large breeds of equine. No, no. He didn't care for any dazzling appearance unless they possessed a tolerant and enjoyable nature of virtues. So far, the belle was to his likings.

Amity, pleasure meeting you. Sorry for my rudeness, I am Majid. By the way, there is no need to bow to a stag as myself, for you see I am not special in any way possible.

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[Amity]

Inner box eddied a soft, pleasurable giggle as she looked towards the virile. Pistons shuffled pedestals against the tender, loose dust that coated the Earth's floor. Harks pricked forward with intrigue as she listened to the masculine's lyrics. Jugular shook with a soft nicker, appendages slowly, cautiously pulling the vixen forth.. closer.. and closer. Velveteen kissers attempted to softly nip at his soft locks, smiling. "It is a pleasure, Majid.." The Buckskin Trotter's lyrics sang gracefully. "Do not worry, dear Majid.. it is fine.." Crown cocked to the right a bit, auburn occulars gleaming with excitement. "I have been raised with courtesy and kindess, Maj'.." The smiled playfully as she paused, "But alright!" The mare glittered excitedly, kissers attempting to nip playfully at Majid's lower crest, in a slightly flirty way..

Zephyrs retorted with a giggle as she continued to attempt to take in his aroma and play with him to get to know him better. Banner whipped at her hind-quarters slowly and occasionally, shooing away dispiteful insects that dared ponder amongst her tanned rump. Right obisidian scythe cut nervously into the sod, kindly and sweetly breathing his masculine scent to rest amongst her warm lungs, settling into her barrel with the fluttering birds that tied her stomach into knots nervously, anxiously for the upcoming presentation of her life that darted through her autumn illusionaries. The thought of speaking came to mind, but no words that would follow up would. It would ruin it, if she spoke.. like dancing, she allowed him to take the lead.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.. it had been well.. never since she had felt this way. As she had never met a stranger alone, who would take her away to have a home and a real life with new horses and equines of all genders, ages, and breeds. How exciting!

( ooc -- sorry it's short, didn't have much time! )

[Amity]

bumpity bump bump

t-i-double g-er! that's how you spell tigger!