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Summers Respite - Hearth - 02-17-2015
RE: Summers Respite - Caleb - 02-19-2015 Caleb was high in the sky, dancing with the wind, flirting with clouds. His mind at ease. Steel-colored orbs flickered with excitement as he banked and dived, ascended, descended, and glided. He was built to be in the sky, it was an undeniable truth. He chortles childlessly, his mind still mostly young. He would turn two soon, so the boy would desperately hold onto his playful attitude until he would be expected to act like an adult. His laughing quiets as he begins to sink closer to the ground, noticing a dark form laying on the plush foliage. Truly, he had been enjoying himself and would've ignored the horse, but he was drawn to the idea of having someone to talk to. Living in solitude was far from pleasing, thus he had to talk to whoever he ran into whenever he could. The green grass drew close quickly and he found himself bracing for the impact of landing. He felt his hooves move to meet the ground and his wings fold as he was planted firmly on the ground. By no means was he close to the shadowy figure. Large ears flicked backwards as he lunged forward, using the momentum of his abrupt landing, to surge towards the horse laying in the grass. A gift from his large frame, was a large gait. The distance between them was minimized with each bounding stride and within moments, he was within feet of her. Sliding to a halt, his hind hooves dig into the moist ground as he shifts his weight backwards. His wings unwrap at his sides and shoot outwards with the intent to catch the wind and halt quicker. Once he is still, large appendages hang loosely at his sides, pinions touching the grass. He inhales sharply, his eyes shrouded with curiosity as he examines her. From her scent, it's clear she is female, however, she is built in a masculine way. Her body is lined with muscle and he wishes her to stand so he might better see her body, contours, slopes, divots, everything. He tosses his horned head, tresses dancing wildly before settling on his powerful neck. A smile claims his lips for a moment before quickly vanishing, a vaguely worried look replaces it. He attemots to shift closer to her, his head dropping marginally. His muscles clench as he tries to drop his muzzle towards her. "Are you injured?" He murmurs as he searches for injuries. Perhaps she doesn't enjoy his disregard for personal space, but it is clear he means well. Under his tough exterior is a warm soul, waiting to be noticed. After a moment, he assumes all is well and steps away from her. His worried expression has vanished, a shy smile taking it's place for an infinitesimal amount of time before fading to a neutral expression. Still under the assumption that all is well (due to the fact that nothing seemed out of the ordinary during his up-close examination of her health), he continues. "I am Caleb," he comments, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he had just been hovering over a mare. It is true, Caleb is no creature of lust (for the most). His lips twitch into a shadow of a smile as he dips his head respectfully. Now that his concern for her health has diminished almost completely, he can take her feminine and masculine glory in all together. He is used to the female being completely feminine, but he is still interested, on many levels, if this mare. She is stunning in many ways. Her mane and tail tumble a great length with the subtle chestnut curls any wild horse would have. Her body is dark, like his, but hued a reddish orange color. Along her neck, head, and part of her front legs, are lighter colored markings that resemble that of a tiger/zebra cross. They are the color of the embers of a fire. He hungrily steals a few more moments of looking at her before his steel orbs try to find hers. @[Hearth] would you like a tag or no? I have no preference personally. RE: Summers Respite - Hearth - 02-24-2015
RE: Summers Respite - Caleb - 02-25-2015 Caleb would be lying if he stated that an intimate revelation was quivering nearer and nearer. He did not desire such a relationship, and would feign hostility to be freed from ravenous gazes of hopeless romantics. In his first year of life, Caleb's father had always told him, "Don't fall for the wrong horses for the wrong reasons." At the time, the young, doe-eyed Caleb had little understanding of why this line would ever need application, but as he neared the age of two, this quote could not be more applicable. Everywhere the inky boy went, there were mares. He had rendezvoused with a few of them, but never attached himself. It was not in his nature to do such, and a frown would crease his jaw at even the idea of the steady approach of dependency in love. The yearling's heart was inhabited by darkness and shadows, tethered to dreams that left him breathless and quivering like a cowardly bitch. In a sense, the boy was damaged, fueling his desire to avoid love. With this emotion, he would have to open up, speak to whoever had caused his heart to warm. Just the thought of spilling the contents of his mind to anyone made his body rigid. One might say, love is off limits for Caleb. His company answers his inquiry, explaining that she was not injured in a way a healer could heal. He assumed her wounds were of the mind, and his steel gaze softened for a fraction of a second. He knew how it felt to be broken, shattered. It was only out of good fortune he had been pieced together properly, back into a functional pegasus. Every once in a while, his ironclad mask would crack, revealing his true emotions. These were the days it was clear to see that he was not all that well. The girl stood up, and his gaze became neutral once more. His lids were sent a flutter as he got a serious look at her. His previous adoration was still somewhat evident, however very subtle. His gaze fell on her wings as they quivered for a moment at her sides. There were gaps in her pinions, where it was clear she was missing a few of her feathers. He was a towering form, only inches from the height he would reach as an adult, but she had him beat. At least she did until he stood taller, allowing his head to raise slightly. She was no longer helplessly sprawled out on the lush ground, so he did not have to crouch awkwardly next to her. His body was dappled with scars, each one belonged to a different story. Each story was hideous, tragic, or unfortunate in some way. He pushed the memories of his skin being marred relentlessly as he once again refocused on the lady in front of him. He approved of her and wanted her to like him in some harsh, defiant, wistfulness of his own. Black ears twisted forwards as he replied to her statement of injuries in a calm, mannered way. "Some do say that time heals all," he offered, eyes dancing with politeness as he continued the conversation. His gaze only left hers for brief periods of time to look at other parts of her remarkable body. She was simple, durable, and classic, yet she was marked in an unusual way. She was the first horse he had ever witnessed with such brindling. Silently, he wondered if when muscles in her thick neck tensed or flexed the lines would dance like the blazes of fire. After a moment, she languidly dropped her velvet lips to the plush grass as a smile sparked across his lips. She was different than most, and he visibly relaxed. It was pleasing knowing she was comfortable enough to simply dive down into the blades of grass and disappear into the green lush. He decided then, that he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave her until the sky grew crimson and the sun set. Despite the fact that they had just met, he felt that it would be rude for him to disappear now, or even in minutes. It was the afternoon, so the sun would set within time and he would wait until she either asked him to leave, left herself, or the sky grew dark. He would not want to overstay his welcome. Her name has been announced as Hearth, a fine name for her. His gaze is puncturing as he begins to speak, desperatly wanting to see her emotions. He craved to know how she felt. It was like this with everyone. He couldn't help but want to watch emotions glitter on the features of his company. Could one truly blame him? "Mighty fine name," he said huskily, his voice deep and rich as it floated from his jaw. Still, it was low and quiet, only for those in the immediate vicinity (which was only Hearth). Silence overtook them, but it was not awkward. Then again, it was a rare occurrence for the black stud to feel awkward. He watched her eat the green blades, steady state following her movements. He made no move himself to graze, for he enjoyed watching her. Strange it was, but perhaps she would find it comforting. Others had. Bottom line, he naturally watched and observed. On some other day, he might've joined her, but not today. He expression remained neutral, revealing very little. Only the slow blinks of his lids and the careful, steady gaze offered any clue what he was thinking. It was almost as if he had taken watch over the mare, something he could not help. Everything within him always told him to guard and protect. This is what he aimed to do. ooc: this was a kind of weird post and I feel like I lost touch with him :/ it'll go back to normal in my next post c: @[Hearth] |