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Post by xavier. on Dec 23, 2006 11:58:04 GMT -5
xavier. Blood tainted frame moved about the topography, the early morning mist hiding his strong frame in a ghostly film, making him barely seen to the naked orb. The hot muggy air stuck to his russet pelt, dampening it slightly. His talons scathed the worn ground, dust kept down in this haream due to the moister that surrounded it. The day was unsually quiet, but then agian, it was early in the morning, the sun hadn't even fully rision, and it sat, like a golden ball on the horizon, the sky stained crimson and golden, fading into amethyst, which would soon turn to be the purest of indigos. The silence and soundless noise of the empty haream rang in his auditives, a rather annoying sound to be exact. But he had gotten used to it of course, he was used to traveling alone, he was used to hearing that ring. He had of course spoke to no one for three years.
Onyx pools looked about the ponds. The orbs of a king. But, they were not his pools, they were his fathers, Flash. That was what they had all called him. Strong, russet bodic moved forward to a rather large pond, the water calm and still, like glass. His vision beant to look at his reflection, no, his fathers reflection. He was the same, in every way. The same muscle definition, the same long banner, the same crimson hue. He was not his own, but someone else. His features, the same ivory blaze that ran down his face, and his pools, those dusty onyx pools. He was young, a young Flash, but mature he was in mind and spirit. Xavier was more experienced, more weathered then any stag in the lands. Sickness, looking at his reflection, he did wanted to do what he was meant to, and that was make the lands as they once were, he was honoured. The great spirits had chosen him, yet he couldn't help but wonder. What would happen to his own life.
Pillar slammed down apon the pond, obscuring his reflection, making the water ripple and dance. His strong, crimson frame moved away, and his onyx pools fell to the ground, not wanting to look at the equine he should have been, not wanting to face the fact that he was his father, whether he liked it or not. A warm wind tickled his frame, and auditives flicked forth, knowing that wind anywhere. It hardly ever came to him in the day time, it usually only came to him at night, when he stood apon the plateau, looking out over the lands, doubting himself like he had just done. It danced with his silken banner, and his boa arched slightly, feeling it touch him gently. A snort erupted from his velveteen nares, and onyx pool watched the multitonal horizon. But then just like that, it was gone, the instant that it came.
Silence, all over again. But it was a different silence. The silence that didn't come with being alone, but the silence that came with knowing you had something to do, and that you were going to do it.
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Post by {istas} on Dec 23, 2006 17:49:43 GMT -5
[/b] Istas's apology was blurted out; She felt alittle kidish for acting like such a filly, and almost running into another equine. What was wrong with her? Oh just nothing, She was just to joyful, and childish to ever really act like an adult. You'd probably expect it though, Blitz was in her line and sometimes, They were just playful equines. The storyteller of the family; That was Istas, and the true snowball. [/size][/ul] |
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Post by xavier. on Dec 23, 2006 18:23:49 GMT -5
xaiver The spring morning was usually a chilly one, seeing as warmth never came early until the summer season was on a roll. But this morning, it was unusually warm, maybe it was just because the lands were fresh, untouched by many. Xavier, actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen another equine. He wasn't surpised. Since the schsim, there had barely been a single soul in the lands of Galloping Free. The great lands had been abandoned by more then half, and the rest, they died out, making the existance of the lands extinct. But that was when xavier was a colt, and no matter how many times he had heard the stories, he refused to leave his land. That was the reason he was sent, so he could revieve the lands.
The Sun was rising higher now, the crimson fading to azul. His dusty onyx pools looked off on the horizon, his auditives flicking forth apon a majestic poll, his attention on the skies. Russet stained pelt reflected the morning light in it's shine. He looked away from the morning light, a pillar came up, slamming down, slipping lightly on the dewwy grass. Snort erupted from his nares, he wanted to be angery at something, or maybe it was just because he was frusterated. Wind tickled his banner, and he flicked it about his muscular rump gently, his crania shooting up, and auditives flicking foward, hearing the sound of talons apon the ground. His dusty onyx pools sparkled gently as the two toned femme came into view. He stepped back gently, his stepps in reverse. He snorted gently, almost a laugh. Auditves flicked forht again, dreambox coming up, listing to her lyrics.
"It's okay...have you a calling?"
His crania came down, dipping to her in respect lightly. Femme's were creatures to be respected, light, dark, or nuetral; it didn't matter.He stepped a tad father away from her, they both needed room to breath. Pillars crossed over one another as he moved, and dark dusty pools came up, resting lightly on the femme before him. She was a lot like her lines, she just had to be who he thought she was. The little fae beside him just had to have those bloodlines, the bloodlines of warriors.
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Post by {istas} on Dec 25, 2006 16:29:15 GMT -5
[/b] Rainbow Valley had been very plain, and quiet the past two years. Istas was a filly growing up with her mother in the land of her ancestors, and then it happened. Namid, the Black sabino mare passed on. Namid was Istas only remaining line, her mother. Sadly, Little Istas was only a year old but you wonder how She can tell stories now a days. Only a year after the death of her mother, She emerges from the dark cave of Rainbow valley. Maybe She's looking for another being to help her creature the herd her mother wanted in the valley, or maybe She was looking for a friend. You decide that, and figure out this tiny little morsal of a soul. Inside; The little brain began to work, and Istas seemed to piece by piece try to figure out the stallion before her (the one she almost tried to run into, on accident that is). Was he one of the newcomers coming into the land? Was he one that stayed back when the land became so dry and inhabitent? Who knew? Maybe time would tell this little storyteller, and how her lines involve those who were legends, those who look down as the guardian's of the heaven [/size][/ul] |
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