we laugh with madness in our eyes

[Lórien]

Her hooves quietly tred against the red-gold dust that shimmers beneath her feet; the product of crushed pearls. A blockade of beach weed sits before her; the ravenous tide slowly gnawing away at the powdered shells that anchors them in place. There is a ruffle as the garnish parts for her passage for its Lórien who walks through them, though her step is quiet and unheard. Long irregular strands of foreign reed bristle against willowy, white legs as the scenic dryad eludes all society. Society seems to equivocate her be that as it may. And through the desiccated pasture she wanders inaudibly; devoid of the slightest desire to covet any conclusive truth. Her request lies unanswered, she continues on her languid search through a world of passionate delusion. Bitter sweet deceit, the delicious fabrication of a world, created through the absolute mendacity of the parched region. Through pale grey eyes, twisted and deluded, surroundings so painfully authentic and captivating no quiet mind could possibly relieve himself of his own foolishness and insanity.

Above her, the swan takes flight. Her brilliant white neck craned forward; the black feathers masking her eyes. Lórien simply stands - among wild flower and mumbling stream - as frothy waters lap across the pale stones; There, the forest, she rests and dreams awake… The wind rustling thought the long dangling limbs of the willow. Its novel green leaves, newly sprouted from the stark branches. Its fingers blanketed in child-leaves sprung from the new warmth that settled upon the once icy land and its arms outstretched seeming to brush the very sky.

The trees, so serene so peaceful and calm. Swaying in the gentle rhythm as wind filtered through. They seemed to dance, and sing to an unheard beat. Ark too heard it’s melodious tune, often setting aside portions of time solely to enjoy the unique, inimitable sound of each tree, and their voices, singing in tune. Each note arranged to perform a faultless song in which they resonate daily just for her and she loved them. You would love them too if you understood what she finds so very endearing about their relentless crooning. She finds sweet solace in them. So this atypical willowy nymph-like-thing lay down beneath the shade. Stardust speckled around her in that simply flawless manner. Her sinewy limbs fanned out from her fair belly. Those blackish hooves buried in the feathery jade shrubbery. A small but that new incandescent grin splayed across her dazzling, rosy cheeks.

She rises from her nest of moon-shine and mud-path; her steel-gray eyes flickering quietly; her lips lie open yet not voice escapes and when it does come her eyes are calm and quiet. To simply withdraw to her silent corner; only it is not as silent, for she asks (and mind how his tone never wavers out of the cool, casual tone he has adopted), “Bellagio.” Her gray nose drifted to the water’s edge; the frothy water lapping across the glossy stones, encasing her small pale hooves as she listens to it’s insistent bubbling. Breathing in its crisp, wintry scent with amusement. Trudging through the merciless, callous ambiance, a beautiful afterglow of a smile, still alight on her lips; stardust entwined with in windswept hair, and that splendorous plea in her eye.

A hoof rises only to fall listlessly on earth - red-gold powder and frothy ocean liquid; a simple gesture to mute the bored curiosity that drives her forward. Her step is quiet; she hesitates in the verge of another forest and a hoof hovers above the wet-land. For a moment she waits. Standing amid the night-wish, she identifies his sallow figure, approaching from afar.

[[E]den]

Malus slunk within the lands of froid. Ocules scanned the dense loam wich lie ahead. The sun.. Its piercing rays shot glances to him. Annoyance took over. Blinded by the large orange circle. It made its way up into the deep blue. Audits flattened pon his skull. Mahogany lining began to shine as dark turned to light. He preferred the night and all its features though.. But it was nothing he could controll. Crania was help upright. Dominance was shown in his features.. He trekked on. Scents of the femmes came into his range. He knew Lorien had followed. And quite happy perhapse you could say?

[ooc: goin to sleep.. ill finish in morning. -slumps out]

[arya]

Because of you..
I never strayed to far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt...

Heavy vibrations from trodding upon the hearth around her, awoke the vix's senses again. Dial rose as bodice shifted its position slightly as vibrations grew more frequent, and this time it wasn't her. Another equine had run across the lands. Thoughts first consumed upon Belagio, as mind cleared and the weird tingling feeling that surged through her blood each time she re immersed herself in him. A slight scowl came upon her features as she remembered how long it had taken him to come back.. Too long. Pillars made effort to rise, as dusty bodice rose from the soot below her, pillars groaning from once again having to stand. Whole bodice shook as a large dust cloud rose above her bodice, only dissipating when a small breeze came to relinquish her senses. Mind activated again as nares filtered through scents as mind tried to find if an equine lay upon them. At last she found one. The vixen he had promised to bring home. Auds turned behind her slightly, as thoughts relived her suspicions before. Lets see if you still hold up to your word.. Orbs searched the grounds ahead of her, as vibrations of her own accord scoured the earth, daggers placed hastily upon the hearth. The sun was midway through the day as pupils contracted from the intensity of the heavens, making their way to cat's slits as they did when she was slightly at a temper. What would happen when she arrived... Will you have picked a mare that you adore now, greater than you had made me seem when you had left? Or shall she be more of a pain in the rump than I? Have you already lured her into our harlem by means of distrust, or did she happily string beside you.. Where does your conscience lie brute? With her or me?

Because of you I find it hard to trust not only me..
but everyone around me...

Mind soaked over the thoughts as bodice emerged fully from the shadows as orbs spied upon the two. A monochromatic vix stood beside the blood bay brute as her chestnut bodice came into full view, orbs soaking the whole thing up.. Auds lowered slightly more behind her throne, though they were still visible to the orbs. Nares flared slightly as pillars halted 10 feet away from the pair. Mind rushed with a fierce intensity, as realization came upon her mind.. He's fondling over her.. She thought with a bitter resentment. She could see it right through his lucid orbs. Ivories bared silently in her maw, though no white was shown to either. What's a traitor always a traitor.. And what's a brute always a brute. And i was foolish enough to fall for it... Thoughts overfilled her as vocals came out, icy and hard..

And to think I was almost eager to see you again.

She snapped coldly. Auds descended completely to her throne. Without another word, back pillars spun underneath her as she pivoted in the opposite direction. Pillars creaked as she walked away, in a regular pace. She understood.. I won't be made a fool standing there while he denotes me for the vixen beside him. How could I have been so naive... He played me like a card, promising me something that he could take away.. Just so he could capture me.. She thought angrily. She didn't want him to come after her. She should've known she would always be a loner.. even if she was in a herd. Your no better than my sire, demon. She cursed silently. Even though Belagio hadn't yet to say a word to her, she could tell what would happen. Why other than would he have taken such a long time to get his bod back to his harlem. Because he didn't give a care what happened to her.. Only to his new vixen. It was like a boy receiving a new toy every week, the first one he adored greatly, as he swore it would always be his favorite until he received a second one.. and the same thing would happen over and over again.. That's all she was.. a toy. A figure, nothing special as she had been a fool to once hope.. Listen to you! Perhaps you should live with the lights, with feeling pity for yourself! Her mind shot back. A sense of guilt panged through her as it filled a hollow pit in her stomach that had just recently been drained from.. What's a traitor always a traitor..

Because of you...
I am afraid

ooc: sry if she's being a little jumping to conclusions here. She is pretty dramatic when she wants to be, and how she views it, is that Belagio already likes Lorien, even though she had no evidence to prove it.. heh..

[Lórien]

With mud in her hair and dirt against her legs, her steps no more then a butterfly’s kiss against soft mud-path, as she drives further through ancient forest. Lórien, tranquil and tender, her hoof rises, and hovers above the earth, hesitating weather to approach further. ( note that this is not an act of fear – a simple gesture, irrelative to her emotion. ) Sleet gray eyes bore into his, allowing her pale hoof to fall against the red-gold dust. With such wanderlust she treds forward, closer to him, in one sinuous motion, her lips, a butterfly’s kiss, against his black ear. Her own flicker diligently as another approaches, a mere flinch of skin although no other acknowledgement was given. He had mentioned nothing about another, and she supposed, this was his little side bimbo. This minor interruption did not hamper her mood; she greeted this being with the slight turn of her narrow head. No more was given and no more was received. This approaching mare was clearly of a different species. At first glance she was no female at all, yet as Lórien studies her, with those enormous, sad gray eyes, she resorts to the conclusion that Arya is indeed a mare. Stocky, with a broad chest and thick legs, a cinnamon color all over; how different was she from my Lórien, quiet and tender as she attends to her duties. A hoof rises and falls again, in sheer waiting for this mare to take her departure from them. Tilting her narrow head, steel gray eyes laughing yet no sound escaped her throat. Her face is slender and beautiful; her lines sylph and delicate; her ears perked in attentive responsiveness to the sound of their voices. (Somehow, nature has forgotten its daughter; Lórien wanders harmlessly even though she is meant to die) As she moves; and though her throat is mute and her ears deaf to the prattle of horses around her, she skips to his side to nestle amongst him; red-gold against brown; his thick black hair entwined in her own, pale and gray. My darling sleeps in such shadow, with her golden eyes wide-awake and the little rims of scars around the globes beneath a shade of forelock. “Hello.” She says, no more no less, his reflective avow directed toward both Belagio and Arya, which she had yet to know one’s name. “Is there a problem?” note the cool and casual tone she has adopted; no irritation crawling beneath her skin from the amusing arrival of this new one.

l ó r i e n

[/i][/size]
we are made of stardust;[/size]
[/right]

[ ooc ] in all reality .. he does sorry about the suckie post [/ooc][/color]

[[E]den]

Save me
From the
Nothing
Ive become..

Dial tossed in the morning rays as the bruthen came into the lands of Froid. Nares flared.. The scents of Lorien and.. Arya. his lead were taken in. Oh so they have gotten together eh? Let the games begin.. Pistons churned the undergrowth as a steady trot took place. Sleek delicate banner flowed behind the mahogany coating of thee. Crania held upright in the dominant position he held oh so proudly. Bodice thrashed as he neared the wrenches. Tossing the lightless body into midair. Scuffs were seen throughout the path he trekked along. Nearing the femmes. Ocules vore pon their frames from a distance. Unknown he was.. The wind ruffles his bristles. Though they became reallined after some time. Steady canter took place. Ranged motion as he came nearer to the femmes. Slight nod to the lead.. Arya took place. And another to Lorien. Nares flared.. The speeches reduced by the femmes ran through his head. Audits plastered against his pan as Arya spoke her words.. Pityful wrench.. You've got me mistaken. Keep it up, and you'll be bowing to my ass before i can even say hush. What do you think femme? That you can just barge into my lands, and think that thw rodl must stop to revolve around you? Pity.. pity.. Ill chain those tassles to your rump. Drag you filty mutt. Pull my cart. So luxuriouse.... Nicker of annoyance released the tip if his mug. Optics glared into Aryas.

You've got it wrong.. But if you wish just be another trouble to this harem, i suggest you leave..

A light whisper was given in her direction after he spoke

Wrench



Sly his released the depths of his vocals. Attention turned towards Lorien. Tenseness was relieved. Not because he liked her.. but because she had the decency to not be annoying. Especially to those above her command. Though he liked the fire in Arya. Wich is why she was made lead.. And proud of her rise he was. But he was temped to fail her. For she hadnt shown him a bit of respect.. after all he had done for her so far. Come push me femme, and ill shove you to the ground Another nod exceeded his crania to Lorien. Nares filled with her scent. That had a light stench of the land.The air was cool... And breezy somewhat. Gaze set pon the ground beneath. Awaiting atleast something or someone to speak. A heavy sigh seeped from him. He was full of boredom. And yet he was thinking..He liked both femmes. They were both different, but special to him in their own little ways. A slight smike could be made out pon his features. Though it would take much searching to notice.. Tick tock.. tick tock.

Ive been sleeping a thousand years
it seems
Time to open my eyes to everything

[ooc: not the best.. i feel like crap. -runs to take shower-]

[Lórien]

She laughs a little laugh, bemused by this site; a thick brood yet to speak her name because of sheer arrogance; and those immense eyes turn to the mare in question- Arya, for no doubt the scent of sweat, dust and jungle also bear witness to the mare’s lack of femininity – no matter how hardy, one cannot flee ones hormones and genes although she has succeeded in muting them to quite the degree.

My Lórien is oblivious to the spectacle of shadow and light she brings with each simple step; comatose of her own lucid antics, no more a pageant then the wanderlust of her eyes; green-gold as the light bends through them. She is silent now, the slight after-glow of a smile dusted across fair lips. She moves a little; a mere flush of nose over skin; She laughs a little laugh, bemused by this site; a thick brood yet to speak her name because of sheer arrogance; My Lórien is oblivious to the spectacle of utter heart-break she brings with those simple steps; comatose of her own lucid antics, no more a pageant then the wanderlust of her eyes; green-gold as the light bends through them. She is silent now, the slight after-glow of a smile dusted across fair lips. She moves a little; a slight flush of nose over skin; immense green-gold eyes flitter gently through; an act committed through silence. Her narrow muzzle shifts, in one lucid motion, and grazes the bark of the tree; black lips pressed against nature’s bosom. Beneath the sheet of twisted crust, maggot and worm scurry through wood-path carved from the hollow tree. She hears them, scurrying about in their tunnels; nature so much alive within her as it is within that ancient tree. My child, Lórien, is oblivious to the creatures that nest in the crook of her tousled hair; to the elements that carved the refinement through her legs. This quiet nymph-child, with stardust dusted along her back; who sings and dreams awake, of night-wish and moon-song; is not afraid. It is silent for a short time, the stocky brood standing beneath a rotting tree, opposite to my Lórien, seems dumbfounded, as if what she sees is to shocking for her lips cannot endure the sorrow and heart-throb of speech. So as my child stands among wildflower and foreign reed, she laughs, a quiet tender laugh. “How nice of you to join us Belagio.” She vollies casually, her voice quiet as it breaks forth from her pale lips. Bare shoulder rests upon molding tree, not irritated, simply tired, my Lórien stands, pressed against the bark, a brow cocked and ears twittering forth. Those wide, ember eyes glow as star-fire as she watches them with amusement. There is not much more to be said, now is there? She thinks and dreams awake, amongst nature’s bosom, her words tender as they sort this situation through her twisted mind. She finds meaningless articles such as this mare amusing; for how can one species, so alike in their sex, be so different in appeal? For what feminine grace, such supple allure does Lórien somehow obtain without the mere flinch of skin? What is this seemingly harmless gift? She often ponders but now, more then ever because of such differences. Without thought nor word she continues; eyes blind to the drama before her; ears def to the prattle of horses amongst her. Then she settles upon an appealing thought, why not save Belagio the trouble of appointing her lead? Why must she wait till this mare ceases her fit? Surely this would be more enjoyable then waiting around for her stallion to commence the action for her. So in a flurry of brash word and coy smile she challenges this mare. “I will give you a choice in the matter Arya, either you may diffuse your position as alpha, or I will surely take it from you.” She avows quite simply; no more no less then needed. She is calm, her voice unwavering, and her body without tremble. Acquitting her stage she advances to Belagio’s side, red-gold against brown as she presses her narrow muzzle against his thick neck. Ah! How jealous one can be when another undeniably retrieves your trophy.

l ó r i e n

[/i][/size]
we are birds of paradise;[/size]
[/right]

[ ooc ] sorry about the suckie post [/ooc][/color]

[arya]

This may not be pretty..

Oh you want to play games with me m'dear? I'll shove your facade into the soot where it belongs. You have tested my temper for too long, you sire playing brute. What are you gonna try to do? Stop me? Well you best keep trying, cause I ain't going anywhere. A sly smirk entered her maw as her form pivoted again, this time facing her rival and the brute. Pillars stirred behind her as auds took in the two's words of fate to her auds, her smirk becoming more mysterious yet. A challenge? For the lead you say? Oh, goody just the thing I would wish to take out all my anger and wrath upon.. And what better an opportunity than a straggly mare like you? Been working out lately hun? Cause justa let you know, you have no body mass on you, more like skin and bones to me. Your breed against mine, good luck babe, cause your gonna need it. Walking powerfully towards the two, bodice only stopped until she was merely inches away from the vix, her own warm breath shadowing back to her. Auds stayed upwards, for now she was greatly intrigued...

Then let the games begin.

A soft villainous laugh echoed through her maw as she watched the vixen turn, after rubbing against Belagio once more, as the monochomatic fool left her lands. Orbs redirected to Belagio as her cold and sly voice came from her once again..

You'd better hope she comes back alive, for I won't drag her sorry carcass...

She whispered softly in his auds, as another low laugh came from her throat. With painstaking slowness, she rubbed against him as whipcord flicked once, as it landed upon his rump, as figure blurred slowly out into the distance...[/color]

So stand back..

sry bout suckie post.. no muse..

[Lórien]

Parted lips, quivering gently, traced the deep engraved lines that traced down the length of the tree. From an open wound; a gelatinous red-gold syrup lathers across the twisted surface of bark. (note the way it oozes from the open wound, a miniscule etching.) The burgundy liquor slowly crawls it’s way down the tree-skin; following the riveted spaces, like a river of bronze fluid; flowing down to meet her lips compressed against tawny bark. The fluid has a bitter sweet taste that lingers on the tip of her tongue for quiet a while; its viscous form strategically positioned on her upper lip, just out of reach. This does not bother her and instead in a flush of leg over leg, she raises a hoof, hesitating as it hangs above wet-land and mud-path carved from many passages through the ancient forest; fully furnished with wild-fern and grey-blue blossoms that flourish beneath the nurturing shade and shadow, moon-washed melody and night-wish.

Blossom petals shy away from moon-wash; in a flush of sultry, brackish wind she was swept closer to him. Pale grey-blue against brown; her narrow face pressed against his broad neck. Her own, quiet, green-gold eyes bore into his, a deep toffee color, vaguely dimmer, more muted than the surrounding skin, flecked with little scars; as moon-wash bends through them, his eyes flashing a deep green-gold hue, similar to her own. The same oppressive air-stream coils a long dark tendril; his enigmatic russet-green eyes. Pale gold lips quivered gently, parted as they gently graze the edge of his profuse neck. Beneath her pale, ample lips she can feel the tender skin on shoulder tremor somewhat. A subtle smile creases across her lips; her touch no more then a butterfly’s kiss against tender back-brown flesh.

Slowly the rivaling female approaches, easing her way closer to the pair. The stocky auburn figure toddled over ever closer. Then as odd as it may seem the fleshy brood presses up against Lórien; sandwiching her lithesome between the stout mare and Belagio’s lofty shoulder, forcing his dense bone against her own; in this scuttle she cranes her nimble self around, curling around to scowl in Arya’s direction. “Would you mind asking your little bimbo to scoot over a smidge?” She counters casually, her shimmering green-gold eyes boring into his; a deep olive like before; as only she could distinguish this miniscule detail, or the way the crook of his nose is gently flecked with white, or how the length of his whiskers fade into grey. Still as unpleasant it was to have Arya’s clammy skin against hers; she remained calm and quite content against Belagio. She does not complain or peruse the issue further; instead she rests her narrow head against his ample shoulder, practically ingesting his rich cologne of lemon-grass and lilac-bud.

l ó r i e n

[/i][/size]
we are made of stardust;[/size]
[/right]

[ ooc ] sorry about the suckie post [/ooc][/color]

[[E]den]

-tiptoes to Claiming whilst the two fight- be back sooonie!