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Post by playboy on Oct 24, 2005 10:42:41 GMT -5
The powerful king of the light entered apon the sacred land. His harks held high as he sent out a call to anyone surrounding. His pace a slow 2beat rhythem.He made his way across the terra his flints tearing at the sod.As he quickened his pace his dagger hit the loam like thunder claps. He slowed as he came to a barrier stream of aqua liquid. He dropped his dreambox to the liquid and sucked it down. His serpentine brought his cranial back to the atomosphere as the azure hued liquid drip from his mug. His rouge hued gaze shifted around the scenery as he sent forth another call to ameria his queen. He lowered his mug the the lush green stalks and nibbled at them. he wasn't hungry but he was awaiting his queen.
{srry...Short...I am regaining my muse to play horses...haven't play animals in a while.}
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Post by playboy on Nov 10, 2005 20:13:36 GMT -5
{bump...god i am growing old....and bored..lol}
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Post by Lasyia on Nov 21, 2005 12:51:57 GMT -5
Though Oblivious I am...
The blanched essa set cautious foot unto the lands of her King, leaving a scar 'pon the loam in which she would forever roam to mark of her forthcoming. All was silent, except the soft thud of hoof meeting sod, as though a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. Thud. Thud. Thud. Tic. Tic. Tic. Time was of the essence, so subtly the femme's pace was quickened. To her, finding her brute was something which required utmost devotion, attention. And so, on she trudged, the bristles of slate hue that made up her canvas slicking to her skin, glued by the immpenetrating rain that tumbled gently down from the Heavens, coating all beneath in a light dusting of liquid. This scene appealed greatly to the essa, for she had always held a certain taste for the cool sensation of a droplet of liquid landing on one's skin, as if thousands of tiny crystals made up each and every drop. A soft simper was rendered to the features which lined her facet as opaque visionaires set 'pon the loam before her, now murky with damp mud.
I am aware of whats right...
Twin harks were casually unfurled atop the essa's plate, an alert position taken on. Was her brute nearby? Would he come to her if she called? As far as she could see, no other 'quine was visible... perhaps he wasn't here? No. No, he had to be here. 'Twas he who had called her was it not? She would perhaps just lie low and wait... yes. She would have patience. Opaque aureoles cast a strangely distant light as the rain cascaded down unto them, blurring the film that so precariously covered them. Labrium parted slightly, just so a small rumble could tumble forth... just enough for her King to notice her presence.
This is right.
A boreal chill swept 'cross the loam as torents began to crash down from the skies, rapturing all in their midst astounded, a force that decreed it's power blatantly. The essa was in awe of nature's will, how such rains as these could bless the loam... or destroy it. But would the aqua be forgiving this time? Curiousity suddenly struck the abashed femme as she subconsciously moved under shelter from the liquid, her unabiding mind still lost out in the rain. Harks were unveiled once more as she embraced the sounds of the storm, empennage absently flicking at the flecks of sod that spit up from the loam at each great splosh of aqua. 'Twas perfect, the femme thought. Perfect.
I know it.
Gaze swept over the soon to be soggy loam, nares flaring slightly with a weary tone. She had found him, the stallion in clear veiw. But she could not move, was it fear? No, it couldnt be. A lingering whicker sounded, braces pulled to ahault as she stood perched atop the looming hill. Silks whisked along the hing flanks, the gust of wind the cause of such. Was she worthy of such a beings presence...?
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Post by playboy on Nov 23, 2005 13:59:32 GMT -5
The light kings harks flicked around trying to hear the presence of his queen. the sounds of the loam were quiet and peaceful. He could hear a faint rythmic music of an aproaching equis. He paused in his postion as a low rumble was sent into the air. such a melodious song could only be from his queen. His harks sprang forward as his viewers searched for the dove whom he loved.
Starting in a rythimic song of his own he paced to find her. His plume slightly erect and his cranial carried towards the lithosphere. His movement were of a prance. So graceful was the looks of it he was proud to be. His blood was of finest arabian lines. His movement stopped as he cam across his beauty. His gaze rested apon her figure. A low song was sent forth to announce his prescence.
"Lo there my queen. How are you apon this great evening?"
He said a low slightly charming voice. His gaze not leaving her figure. She was prefect in all ways. From her pelt to the figure of her bodice was perfect in all ways. Was he worthy to be in the presence of such a wonderful dove.
{Not finished yet...i will finish when i can get back on.Have thanksgiving to cook for..and help get ready for.}
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