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Post by jaime on Oct 31, 2005 16:29:42 GMT -5
a beautiful arabian mare walks among the waters edge. her muscles moving gracifully underneath her white coat. she smells the air to find ot about the whereabouts of other horses. she smells nothing. she grazes softly at the damp green grasses at her hooves. her appetite is small since she is in season. the mare fans her feathered tail gently in the breeze to try to lure a stallion to her. she is desprately seeking a mate and hopes on who will love her finds her before it's too late...
she lifts her ehad when she hears a noise in the distance..i wonder what or who that is moving in the distance! i hope it's a good stallion that will treat me right and not harm me! the mare looks around and lifts her dial to call more strongly a mate to her..
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Post by jaiem not logged on Nov 2, 2005 12:52:35 GMT -5
the mare sways in the breeze and she slowly fans her silken tail to attract a mate.. surely if there is a stallion out there he will come! she had almost given up hope and was praying that a gentle beast would come and claim her..
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Post by jaime not logged on Nov 3, 2005 17:48:45 GMT -5
i wonder if any other stallions are even on this island! the mare stood alone and moved long to another patch of grass..he silken mane and tail cathcing the wind and bliiowing int eh breeze...she let her eyes catch the insect that was crawling in front of her.. i bet you have no troubles..no worries of finding a mate, no worries of finding food, no nothings! she lifted her hoof to squash the hbug but decided against it.. why bother killing you, you're worthless.. the mare moved along to a shadey spot...
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Post by Sequin on Nov 3, 2005 17:52:27 GMT -5
ooc:
Do not get discouraged, a matriarch her will be made soon. It will be a neutral one btw.
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Post by Sequin on Nov 3, 2005 21:58:16 GMT -5
A low murmor made ist way to the wench left in question, perhapse her alliance in jepordy. Attention had been snatched in the wenches direction by the overcasting lord Kemor. Her presence very well beckond to the ladns of Amazon, does ruling above all. A sweet scent, the scent of live and well washed upon the swirls of win dabbing the essas pelt. The tugging whispers lingerd upon her sensitive auds, the choise was all in her court.
Make your way to the lands of the matriarch, neutral terra calling your name. More shall join you fine nymph, your trek cold and barren in theese lands of claimence. The choice is up to thy, will you take the high route?
ooc:
heh lovely right
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Post by jaime on Nov 4, 2005 8:12:22 GMT -5
the mare heard a faint whisper as if the breeze were talking..she listened intentively and decided to follow the winds instructions...what will find me there? was that the king s[eaking unto me?
ooc:yes very lovely!
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