. spirited I am .

[a n i m a d o]

A n i m a d o

[/i][/b]




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I can only see

Blunts churned the lithography, making it crumble beneath her weight into tiny debris, thrown away behind her flying tassel like broken toys. Lappets surveyed the lands with vigilant care, the features of the lands imprinted in her dream box, to be kept within herself; protected by a barrier only to be punctured if she was whisked away like a fallen leaf in a summer breeze. Proboscis flared to reveal the pink tissue hidden behind the ashen curtains, soft sigh escaping into the encompassment, the vixen captured in the global orbit as was every other equine around her. Swarthy pigmented sinew wrapped tight around her frame, lines etched into her pelt like a statue, building and displaying her strength and emotions. Dome flicked in her boredom that overtook her, gnawing her from the inside out, willing her to do something, put herself into action, but all she could do was wait. Wait… ah such a word that made her tense, made her anticipate the next play in the game, made her skin shiver with readiness like nothing ever had. Sides lifted, deep breath inhaled and exhaled, carbon released into the air to caress the herbage around her, the plants supplying her with oxygen in thanks. Her mind raced, it was always running, chugging like a train, playing around like a young foal. Ideas, thoughts, memories, all stored in her brain pan, an imagination some would call it, others would call it intelligence; she called it cunning. She observed things closely, thought about them, allowed them to join the flow of notions that ran through her head like a river, the rushing of her concentration sought out by the crease of her facial expressions. Skin crawled as a low wind hit her head on, cranium now carried low to fight against the thick foliage she now faced, lobes dancing atop her crown to catch the sounds that broke the silence around her again and again. She could feel winter nearing, drawing the lands into a cold spell, dropping hints of its dreaded arrival. The leaves had fallen, color changed and all, the temperatures dropped, many on the quest for shelter like she. Barbs grinded, gnawing at her lip as her mind continued to run, ticking away at the clues winter left before snatching them away from the warmth, from the food and water, like the cold clasp of the hand of death… Ominous, a favorite word of hers, something she could be, but rarely was. Dark like the night and frightening like an irregular shadow, satisfying for the deep hunger within her but disturbing for the guilt that lay within her as well; what a strange mare she was, comparing herself with ominous, comparing and contrasting everything and everyone. Animado was her calling, those who wished to know what it meant and what they should propose to her as would have to earn her respect, they wouldn’t get it from force, or from demanding, not even asking. Dome shook, mug drifting to the small creek she discovered, soft lips parting and curling around the frigid liquid, the cooling water soothing her throat, running through her body and making her vigorous once more. Adrenaline made her blood pump faster through her veins, heart pounding as her hind shanks lifted from the ground, heels kicking out in a hearty buck, extremities propelling her bulk through the dry and barren grasses, lanterns lighting up with bliss, head tossing again and again, ridding of her locks that obscured her vision. Her Spaniard heritage showed through her features and her build, even her personality. Her courage, her will to survive, her smooth muscles and rounded back. She was quite small for a horse, but she was quite stubborn and armed with an ill temper. Gentleness would settle on her features, unraveling to a vicious fury that was hard to calm, let alone control. Animado was to never be tamed, her name meaning spirited, picked out by her mother whom had weaned her when she was around six months. Past memories were good and some bad, life wasn’t perfect, it had its times where you wanted to go back and relive them, others that you wanted to fix and have them never happen, but you can’t gain back time you’ve lost. Once precious seconds, precious minutes had passed, they were gone, never to be grasped again. As the memories rolled on, cretaceous lining was displayed around her mocha optics as a rabbit darted out in front of her, catching her off guard. Shying, she danced away but quickly collected herself, reprimanding herself for not being more alert. A bad thing about her curiosity, her burning aspiration to know how things worked, what others thoughts happened to be, it pulled her away and knocked her senseless as though she’d been attacked by an invisible force. Ah yes, her mind was a woven web of mysteries, you could never tell what she was thinking, whether she was cooking up a plan and in desperate need of something, something that she couldn’t even figure out herself.

new experiences as

Upon realizing were she’d come, she tossed her apex in joy, finally having reached her destination. Lemorsea... she’d heard so many stories, the wonderful environment with available shelters she’d trekked for, working hard, surviving to reach this place. However, it didn’t take her long to realize she’d reached the claiming grounds of the lands, where masculine roamed, claiming mares left and right, some for the good hearted pleasure of company, others to display as trophies, showing they were superior, a strong desire to have the largest herd. Muscles could be seen tensing beneath her coat, the young mare glad for nightfall. No markings were bore upon her hide, allowing her to use the shadows as a cloak, her scent betraying her to some however. Many mares were ready to be whisked away by a steed, ready to enjoy a new life and find a ‘true love’, ending their lives as happily ever after. Well, it didn’t always work out that way, and this Animado knew from friends and family, but had yet to experience herself. She had always veered away from claiming grounds such as this, but her weary muscles begged her to stop, her heart insisting that she stop, end her journey, her brain pushing her, intensifying her desire to be away from this place. In the end, her heart won, and she parked herself under a barren tree, cast away from the rest of the forest, a loner like she. There was no passion to reside with a stallion, be part of a herd, alongside mares that held hope to capture that brute’s heart. Nope, this was not what Animado craved, what she craved, what she wanted, something she had to have… she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure, she didn’t know what in the heck she wanted, and for now she decided all she wanted to do was be left alone. Optics closed, the baroness falling into a light slumber, listeners still twitching, listening, waiting for whatever was to come, what was to be expected of the cursed lands... Oh, only if you could regain time that was lost…


those of the past...[/center][/color]

[George]

All my life, I would look out the window
and gaze upon a grand ship in the harbor.
But now, when I look out that window,
I see no ship, but the beautiful maiden inside.



How do you know when a boy becomes a man? Do they wake up one morning, and their countenance overall has the maturity of a man, someone to look up to? Will you wake up one morning, and no longer find the childish games you once played interesting, or worth your while? Oh, how I wish. But usually, unless one has suffered a tremendous loss, or experienced a situation only a man should, this does not happen to most people. And when this does happen, those people can not be considered lucky. Usually, becoming a man takes time, a lot of time. When you’re young, you look up to your father and want nothing more than to be just like him, to have your own herd, your own land, and have the freedom to do whatever you want, whenever you want. You try so hard to act mature, to fool everyone that you are older then you seem, and you don’t realize how priceless youthfulness is. You don’t appreciate being a child, believing in the unbelievable, and experiencing the immense blissfulness that childhood holds. And when you realize it, it is too late. You’ve accepted the responsibility of being an adult, and you’ve accepted the pain, suffering, and hardships that it brings with it. That is the moment you become a man, the moment you look back on your life, and realize that the perspective you’ve viewed the world your whole life has changed. Your most troublesome problems are foolish, and you laugh at the thought of how much trouble they caused you. Even as a teenager, you couldn’t let go of your childish ways, your childish perspective even if you had understood, and partially accepted the responsibility. You were rebelling, one half of your mind trying to give your youth more time, before catching up to your other half. You weren’t ready, even if you tried so hard to be. The fact remains, you weren’t ready. George is only six, and though he has not done anything with his life thus far, I wouldn’t consider him a child, but a young man. He has not the experience, nor has he come to the moment of revelation, where he may look back upon his life and think of all those blissful moments of his youth, but he has experienced no great pain or suffering either. For those that can avoid the great pain, and the great suffering, they carry a part of their youth with them throughout their life. They are the happiest ones.

George had stayed in Delayas and ate for hours. The grass was just too sweet and lush for him to have the will power to stop. His reasoning for acting like a poor, starved pony being that there was no reason for him to stop. He had finally found his home, an excellent home at that, and did not have to worry about… well, let’s just say the other small details of living back where he had come, details that we can just leave out for now. But George had become full, a feeling he thought should go down in history. Never before had it happened, until now. His home, filled with tall, billowing stalks and a waterfall of pure, tasteful water continued to beg him to eat and drink, but that wonderful feeling of being full was still working its wonders. That’s when George started his journey to find a suitable herd. Not only was he growing more lonely with every passing second, but he felt that everyone should be able to discover and enjoy being full. Tree’s started to mingle as he passed around the edge of the mountain, giving more shade to the ground. Two baahs came from the top of the cliff, suggesting the mountain goats were moving to have a change of scenery. And then a loud grunt echoed off the walls of the cliff and rang in his ears. This caught his attention quite suddenly. Stopping from his relaxed canter, George shot his head up in the air and stared intently up at the edge of the cliff. Dust swirled around him creating a sort of faint fog. When it settled, he saw something he wished he had not been curious enough to look. Those two goats he had heard were doing the naughty-naughty, right there, at the edge of the cliff. “Ah man!” He immediately looked back down in front of him. Clamping his eyes shut, he shook his head before opening them again, staring blankly in the distance. Sure, it’s hot out, but seriously! Another loud grunt-bah shot through the air. Unable to restrain himself, George turned his head back to the mating goats with wide eyes. The stallion burst out with laughter. “Wow.” Turning his head back to the path ahead, he forced himself to leave and search for another equine, preferably a mare.

As he cantered off, past the cliff with the mountain goats, loud bahs followed him. He snorted and shook his head. “Never again…” Just as he said this, another beautiful image popped into view. Two bunnies fucking under a large maple tree made his stride falter for a second time. “What the hell?” But George did not have time to stay and contemplate why the bunnies found it necessary to have sex right here or why he, George, was the one who kept running into these beautiful moments. A mare is near. The breeze brought her sent along with it. Determined now, and filled with hope, he set off at a lengthy canter, eyes focused ahead in the direction of the mare, quite sure he was not going to allow himself to find another two animals doing what he had only dreamed of doing. Now, don’t get me wrong, George is not the kind of perverted guy who spends long periods of time imagining what it is like, not able to even talk to a girl because of his… well, nature. Nor is he the kind of guy who only sees girls as candy, going through multiple at a time after unwrapping it, reaching the sweet stuff. You have to remember, though, that George is still a bit young, and in this way, immature. George has never loved, had intercourse, or even a herd of his own. But just like every teenager, he has definitely thought about it. Not only has he thought about sex, but love. Guys wonder if they will ever find love too you know, and he could only hope.

Finally, he saw her. There, standing under the shade of a large tree stood the figure of a beautiful mare. Her coat shone a bright bay even in the shade, and here eyes were those he could fall into and stay forever. He was captivated by her; there is no other way to put it. Suddenly, George felt the need to show off. Arching his neck and allowing his long, colored mane to cascade gently down, he walked up to her, stopping at a comfortable distance so as not to be too forward.

“Heyyy… I’m George, leader of Delayas.” The words slid from his mouth. He felt strange, and not himself. He was about to speak again when he saw something he would have given anything not to. There, just beyond the tree sit two skunks, going at it like there is no tomorrow. His eyes got wide for a second, then realizing he still had this beautiful lady’s attention, he coughed and frowned trying and failing to hide that he had seen something. Returning his eyes to the beautiful mare, George said, “I just got here. Nice place.” He wanted to say more, like tell her she was gorgeous and sweep her off her feet, but that would seem stupid and forward. So instead he remained put, and waited for her reply.

[a n i m a d o]

Tendrils lifted, flirting with the soft, continuous breezes, fresh morning scents caressing her respirators. Buff quarters swung around, fore shanks lifting as she spun, landing firmly on her blunts. Dome shook exuberantly, no questioning filling her dream box just yet. The morning was clear, the light coating of dew making the dying grass shine in the rays that came from the fiery ball in the sky, her figure illuminated a rich golden bay in its light, ribbons grazing her hocks as she flicked it, lobes dancing atop her cranium. She heard the bawling of goats’ coming from the mountain range to her left. Lucid voids were trained on the mountain range, skin trembling as the realm darkened, a cloud passing across the sun and blocking its warm, cheery light. The lands were cloaked in a shadow that made her anxious, bulk rigid with slight fear. The shriek of a hawk broke her from her fantasy, bringing her to the reality she now lived in. Grunting, she stepped forwards towards the cold river, mug drifting towards its glossy surface with little will to drink, but her good common sense told her that it would be necessary to refresh herself before beginning her trek, the mountains sure to make her work harder. Sighing, she blew through her lips and soon the gears in her brain pan began chugging as scents flowed into her nares, the vixen mesmerizing their foreign scent, the glands in her nostrils working furiously to decipher the aromas. Signals were commanded by her brain, telling her what to avoid and what path to choose, to take faint scents as a caution and pay close attention to fresh ones. It was all like clockwork, she woke up, spirit springing through her, jumping around like fireworks bottled up only to be settled by exploding, and once they’d gotten their fuse burned out, it was over. Comparing and contrasting…. her favorite thing to do in her past time; she’d spent so many afternoons and nights comparing equines, plants, days, everything and then contrasting them. It was her nature, something that was innate to her, like a wolf’s ability to instantly see equines as prey, how to pick out with their sharp eyes which were the weaker and which were the stronger. Wolves were a threat to her, but she had to fear of them, nothing about them made her get excited. Nope, she’d rather face a pack of wolves than meet a dang stallion. Their aura, the arrogance that seemed to be carried with them every place they went, it made her unnerved. Clacking her enamels, she pushed the thoughts aside, stopping under another tree. Journeys, she hated them, and yet she had been on a constant one all her life without even moving from one place. Life was a long journey, sometimes a joke, other times were you wished it wouldn’t end. Other times, you wished you could pick up something and hit your head against it over and over again, like an idiot.

These experiences built up a journey, carried you along a gentle and sometimes rough current, making you wiser, making you stronger and harder. Faster, more cunning, everything, life was like that. She loved life, even during the hard times, but it was all good in the end. Lucky this mare had been, yes, sometimes at least, but she was here now and that was all that mattered right? Wrong. No one cared whether she was alive or dead, she did, but no one else did. Many of them to obnoxious, to full of themselves, thinking life a mere toy, that mistakes could be fixed with a snap of their hooves. Lord help those helpless equine without a clue… Lanterns rolled, and she was about to move forward when he entered the land. His forelock veiled his eyes, colors like the night filled by soft moonlight, a breath taking site, and she stood like deer in the headlights of a monster. She hated not being able to see his eyes, to her, it was the most important part of telling how an equine felt, or at least the best thing. Unless that certain equine was quite good at hiding their emotions, then you might as well start playing a guessing game with no clues, standing their like a sitting duck. Tucking her head to her chest, she kept her gaze on the masculine, suspicion arousing. She watched him, her mind going crazy with questions, features creasing in her concentration gaze. She began to lift a hoof but allowed it to rest upon the cold ground, still watching him with espying. As his stare looked past her, she craned her neck momentarily, upper lip curling at the obscene site before her. An awkward feeling awakened her, and she shuffled her feet, auricles pricking to catch his soft words. Oh my, my, my, my, The tone of his voice, so soft, yet so new to her. It’d been a while since she’d heard a voice such as so. Not even her mother’s voice brought that warm feeling to her, an emotion that made her stir on the inside. It made her want to inquire about his habits, the way he moved with such ease, how he had gotten such exquisite markings. The way his mane fell, pressing itself against his neck like so, the lines etched into him. He was a fantasy, he had to be. Swinging her crown around, she nipped herself. Nope, she wasn’t dreaming. Never had she seen a creature so carefully crafted, so delicate yet so stout and hard, like a small hoof could crush him but it wouldn’t even leave a scar upon his patchwork. A feeling of protection formed an invisible wall around her, waving off any other brutes that wanted to capture her attention. He already had drawn her in, and she focused on him and only him. Wow, what solitude could do to one. Hello George. I am Animado.. Tones were wispy, and she could feel herself melting away along with the winter morning, the dew suddenly disappearing, everything around her a blank. The majestic stud stood before her, and she felt dizzy, but she pulled herself up straight and stared him squarely in the eye, muscles tense. Reminders were clicking off in her mind, the ‘never be too trusting’ sign ringing like an alarm, sirens screaming, instinct pounding away at her insides like a sledge hammer. Emotions were hidden though, and just to be sure, she tossed her dome to her locks covered on of her eyes, the other pinned on him at all times…

When he spoke of being new and how nice the lands were, she nodded in agreement, eyes still locked on his massive frame. The lands were indeed spectacular, but winter was nearing, drawing closer and closer, perhaps to pull the lands into an unknown ugnliness. The tree were bare, the grash was browning and not very tasty, but better than nothing. Sighing softly, she peeked out at him behind her thick stygian locks, questions still rolling thorugh her mind, encouraging her to get to know him more, but she recoiled. She had just meant him and didn’t want to be nosy or too pushy, nah, let it all come out by him. The tissue in her bodice was still drawn tight, as though she were being sucked into a vacuum, its strong suction pulling at her, but she kept ready. She was waiting for him to do something, but upon realizing he was waiting for her to do something as well, she shifted. Noticing how he kept at a comfortable distance, a new respect was founded for him. She’d heard the rumors, the rumors of stallions who crowded mares, some moving in only to breed them, and very few respected a mare’s space. Snorting softly, she eyed him again before speaking. So you are new to the lands as well? She questioned, not about to reveal her ambitions to him. She’d been seeking out Lemorsea, but not she was here, she wasn’t quite sure what she intended to do. A family right now was out of the question, but shelter was iffy. She wasn’t sure where to seek shelter, a refuge to block the force of the cold spell that would dawn upon them. Ah, how she hated winter, but she loved it so… I am sooooo weird. she told herself, eyes rolling mildly before she returned her focus to the black and white brujo before her. She gave him a lopsided smile, dropping a hint she was unsure what to do, but whether he picked up on it she did not know…

<< eck >>

[George]

When you look at someone and want them to fall into your arms and forever gaze into their eyes, what does that mean? Is it a simple crush, or love at first sight? And when the animal inside of you stirs at the sight of her delicate body, and compels you to move towards her, to show off, to be known, is that just a simple attraction, or could it be more? George’s animal was stirring alright. No longer was he sleeping peacefully, but was strutting around, purring loudly with satisfaction. God, she is so beautiful… He watched her main flick with the slight movements of the air, and her muscles gently roll as she shifted. Never before in his life had he seen a mare as delicate, or as captivating as this. But why, suddenly, have I become so mushy and lovey-dovey. I am George. George doesn’t let his emotions get to him. I am strong, and powerful, and I’m NOT mushy-like. But when she spoke of her name with the voice of an angel, and smiled, fireworks went off in the party in his head, and the beast purred louder than ever inside his body. “Animado…” He spoke the name softly and slowly, putting it into his mind forever. “It kind of rolls off your tongue doesn’t it?” He liked the name. It was very pretty, especially when she said it. Why don’t I just tell her that? No, he couldn’t. George would flirt instead. It seemed much manlier, more macho. But when Animado shot him that lopsided smile and asked him her rhetorical question, unsure of herself he couldn’t keep the weak feelings of a crush from crashing down upon him.

He needed to do something, something huge, something so amazing a powerful that it would stand out. He needed to sweep her off her feet and make her so in love with him that she was bound forever to his side. But what could he do to make her fall madly in love? What was he going to do as a next move at all? The feeling was weird. Sense when had George ever been the least bit self conscious? All his life he could walk up to anyone and say whatever caught his attention. If he thought they were fat, he would tell them that they were fat, no problem. Yeah, it was rude, but George preferred it, to this feeling that he felt now at least. No, this is the way it’s going down. I’m going to swallow this… emotion I’m feeling right now, and whatever move I make she’s going to love. And she’s going to come back to Delayas with me. There is no question about it. Yeah, ok, so that was a lot of B.S. but it was better than thinking she would hate him, so he swallowed his own lie. That’s when George made his move. He took one large stride up to her, so they were close enough to no longer be considered strangers, but comfortable friends. He didn’t dare push her too far by moving in closer, though he wanted to. He could see that the skunks were gone. Letting out a sigh of relief, George smiled allowing his teeth to show, and looked into her eyes. No one was going to get sprayed if any sudden movements were taken after all. Sure, if there was any sign of the beautiful maiden in front of him being sprayed, there is no doubt that he would step in the way and take the blow full on, but he was glad that they both could avoid that unpleasant experience. The urge for him to say something interesting came up, something funny. Shaking off the self conscious feeling he had held before, George once again came to his senses and acted more like he normally did.

“So, Animado, just a moment ago, when I was passing, I realized that I have this thing,” He was teasing her, and his eyes and half hidden smile showed it. “For Lemorsea I mean.” No, for you. “It’s pretty intense, this thing I have. I just can’t leave.” He smiled warmly at her, eyes dancing. It was obvious he was talking about her, but was he being too forward? Remaining silent, he awaited her reply.




{Omg, I’m SO sorry for this post. Completely museless.}

[a n i m a d o]

animado...[/i]

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The intensity of his stare made it harder for her to measure up to his gaze, but she did so. Muscles shivered beneath her coat, legs stiffening for a moment but soon they fell to their relaxed position once more. Black tassel flicked, threads catching in the branch lying behind her. The twitching of her tail stopped, and she pricked her ears pricked as he began to speak once more. Heat took over her, her senses deteriating as he began what she called ‘smooth talking’. Smiling, she kept quiet, watching the thoughtfulness that compelled her, the mare becoming wrapped around his hoof and surrounded by the comforting scent his body gave off. Shivering with delight, she closed her eyes briefly, wishing so much to know what he thought. It was a nagging thing, a pet pieve of hers not being able to know what others thought. Sighing softly, she threw her dome to the heaves, sending a private prayer quickly; the reason for her action to try and deceive the brute she was ridding of her forelock that screwed with her vision. Thoughts danced threw her brainpan, the mare occupied by her memories and ideas, not noticing the stallion advancing on her. Funny how a horse’s mind could do that, coax you into your own little fantasy, not letting you turn your back on it and return to reality. This happened to Animado often, tricking and deceiving others to whether she was actually there or not. Truth was, she was listening, absorbing every word and movement of what was around her, she just didn’t let others know she’d noticed. A bad habit of hers, and a pretty bad trait for she had a short attention span, and considered herself a day dreamer. As the sun’s rays reached her and caressed her cold frame, making it warmer despite the chilly temperatures, she returned to reality. The reality that was she despised, but had affection for… Perhaps it was not reality this affection was gained for? Gah, girl, pull yourself together! Snorting, she shook her nape and watched him. No thoughts of love had entered her mind, nothing made her tingle with pleasure. She’d never really believed in true love, it seemed so absurb. She hadn’t been in fantasies where she was being swept of her hooves by a majestic stag, whisked away with him to his ‘magical kingdom’ and months later a small foal frolicking by her side, such a delicate thing. Eyeing a hawk circling in the sky, she studied it, watching it complete its seemingly perfect perimeter before following its small body in the vast expanse of the blue sky. A few clouds dotted the skies, sure to be rain sooner or later. Oh joy, the rain… Grunting in disgust, she shifted her attention to George and muttered softly… Arrepentido A Spanish word that she knew, one of the many she could speak. Her mother had whispered many during the long nights back in the valley… Wistful look was planted firmly on her face, her stare still casted on the patched stag. Breaking away once more, she listened as he spoke of Lemorsea, and finally revealed the hidden message to the words… Shifting, she felt a little uncomfortable and forced a smile on her lips, hiding her confusion and awkwardness that she felt. She didn’t’ want him to… ah, what the heck, she had no idea what in the hell she was doing! Gah, she was soooo ‘smooth’, huh? Lobes flickered atop her crown, and she tried to summon the words needed for this situation. Finally, she pulled herself together, hiding everything that had displayed she’d understood his message. It unnerved her a little, but she wouldn’t show weakness, nope, not in front of him or any other equine that roamed these lands. Sí, they are aye? She said, acting as though she had no clue what he meant, hoping he believed the words she spoke. She was ready for… whatever he had goin on in his head if he was thinking anything. Perhaps you’ve lost it, missy she told herself.
The sun was high, indicating it was indeed noon, and the time had flown. She gazed off behind the brute, watching another leaf flutter to the ground, the wind making the trees around them rustle, whispers created by their thin, brittle arms. The river gurgled, rushing over the rocks that blocked its path in an unbridled fury, its sound soothing her, calming her and helping her regain common sense once more. She gave an apologetic look to the brute, for she was just complicated, a mystery woven tight ready to be unraveled…

<< same here! Mabey I ain’t got so much muse for her >>
Translation - Arrepentido - sorry

[George]

Silver locks danced upon his arching neck, contrasting with the wide, black splotches that tarnished his hide. A chilling breeze swept by, leaving as fast had it had come. The leaves on the nearby tree rustled, a few breaking on their stems and falling to the ground. The cold front had come fast, and it sent shivers down his spine. A storm is coming. Within a short time, the sky was grayish white and turning dark. The breeze picked up again, more furiously this time and whistled with the branches of the billowing tree, and other trees nearby. No birds were in the sky, no animals were anywhere to be found at all around them. They were the only ones there, and as far as he could tell, it was a mistake to remain in place. The small stream near by was rushing past, much faster than before and slopping water on the banks and creating small whitecaps atop the waves. The grass by now was consistently changing position with the ever so chilling wind. Soon enough they would lay flat and the sky would open up and release its furry upon the earth. George was watching the intriguing fem before him, trying to translate the hidden message she was telling him. Ever sense he had spotted her, he hadn’t taken his gaze from her, and just moments before, before he had last spoken he could have sworn he had seen something in her eyes, some kind of good, encouraging sign. He had sensed she was in to him, even if it was just a little, or perhaps he had been making that up. So he had taken the next step, coming closer, dropping hints of opening up, but she just… well to say she just stood there would be a lie, but she didn’t buy into his game. Half the time he had gotten the impression she wasn’t even paying attention to him, like, or so he thought, she tried to pretend he wasn’t there and she didn’t hear him. But then the way she spoke her Spanish word, translating to mean sorry, it kept him there, and made him want to understand her more. There was another thing about her that troubled him, possibly more than the first. She such a stoic equine, he had no idea what in the world was going through her head, and had no idea what she wanted because she sure wasn’t letting him in. And her response, Sí, they are aye?, to his… well, flirting showed her to be blissfully unaware. Either that or she just didn’t have the courtesy to tell him strait on that she didn’t want him here. He couldn’t tell which. But either way, he was a little disturbed and became a bit uncomfortable himself.

He wasn’t used to this. George had always been an outgoing male. He was flirtatious and had a more crude sense of humor than some. But that was all due to his upbringing and mostly, his life after leaving his childhood herd and before finding Lemorsea. Though it had been only a short time, those horrors and humors had a huge impact on his personality today. Where he had come, equines said what they felt and what the wanted to whenever they wanted. George should know. He had been drinking out a stream peacefully, minding his own business… I was startled by a false, girly voice from behind. ‘I couldn’t help but notice how handsome you look. You’re just so… gorgeous.’ I had turned around and standing there was the ugliest brute I had ever seen. No scars or grub interfered with his gleaming coat and his main and tail flowed in the breeze as if they didn’t have a single tangle. He tossed his head into the air and threw his forelock behind his ears to reveal his eyes. ‘I want you.’ By now, I was like, what the f*ck?! Before I knew it, he had charged at me so close I stumbled into the muck at the bank of the stream. Stuck in it, he mounted up and attempted to rape me with butt sex. Completely bewildered, I quickly managed to un-stick myself and escape by kicking him hard in the stomach... This is an extreme example in George’s past obviously; however, it explains why he felt a tad bit uncomfortable now. How could she not know what he was talking about, and how was he supposed to explain? None the less, he still found her to be intriguing. Perhaps I just need to open her up.

A burst of light flooded the sky, so bright it almost blinded him, followed closely by a crack of thunder. The storm was too close. They needed to leave, and leave fast. Never would he have stayed here this long if it had not been for her. Making his mind he said gently and encouragingly, giving up the school boy flirting, “It’s dangerous to be here now with this storm; we should leave. My land, Delayas, should be out of the storms path. That is where I’ll be returning. I would love for you to join, and become a member of my harem. You’d be the first. But, I do not want to pressure you, or rush you into a decision you’ll regret making. If you’d rather, we can leave for Delayas, and see how you like it before you make your decision. But right now, we really shouldn’t stay here with this storm.” He went silent. Looking into her eyes solemnly, he hoped against all hope she would say yes, that she would join him. There was something about her that he craved, something about her that admired. Perhaps it was the fact that she is so different, so able to conceal her true self, something he had never done. Perhaps it was just that he had never seen such a beautiful fem, and was being tricked into a false sense of liking. Though that is highly doubtful, but he didn’t know what to think. Something about her kept him there, kept him hoping she would say yes. For a few moments, she had been able to make him grow into a man. He was no longer fooling around, but being strait. Who knows how short of a time it will take for him to act immature again. Another flash of lightning and crack of thunder rang through out the area. Instead of running for shelter, and against all instinct, he waited, searching for some sign of her answer. She was staring right through him, searching him right back, trying to find who he really is, and who he will be. Then, finally, she gave him a sign. It was subtle and unobtrusive. If he hadn’t have been looking for it, he would have missed it. But her head ducked down slightly; in something you could hardly call a nod. Another burst of lightning exploded through the sky, followed immediately by a crack of thunder. He needed to go. With the speed of any stallion full of adrenalin, he quickly ducked his head in a low bow, and spun around in the opposite direction, galloping off in the horizon. Was she behind him? With the raging winds from the storm, he couldn’t tell. The nod could have been a simple twitch, or to move her forelock from her eyes slightly. Maybe, even, he had made it up entirely. George wanted to stop, to make sure she was at least seeking shelter, but it was her decision. He had no right to interfere, and he knew, if in this instant, he gave in and looked behind him, there would be no way he would be able to leave her here, even if she had just made it blatantly obvious that she didn’t want him here. George’s stride faltered, and then stopped completely. Oh how he wanted to just glance behind himself, just to make sure she had followed, even if it wasn’t meant to be forever. But he couldn’t. The beautiful lady wouldn’t want him to. With that, he painfully tore himself away, galloping away from the squall.



[mift]

[a n i m a d o]

Sorry! I shall post tomorrow

[George]

Take as long as you need. No pressure.

For now though, I would like to put claiming here on hold, unless you choose to follow him back to Delayas and leave here as well. I've modified my post. But seriously, don't feel pressure to post, I can wait. I understand that you have a life you need to live. haha, that was corny. I just have some unusual inspiration and I'd like to get the ball moving at Lemorsea. So,

George has left.

but he will come back if need be. XD