the Rift


[OPEN] peregrination

Feuille Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#4
feuille
jaune
It occurred to her that the autumnal dance shook itself out, and on spindly, travel-worn hooves she planted herself in the forest. Tail lifts and she becomes tall, ears erect, orange eyes vibrantly wamble focusing on the macro-detail of dew beading an orange leaf. Feuille always took the time to digest the smaller perspectives of life, feeling serenity bleed through her eyes into the softness of her thoughts, cajoling. Somewhere musings cast their essence across her own doe-esque figure. She felt like a replication, her own colors reflecting in pools of dew. She had the ability to glow, radiate like an opening flower. The minutes spun by, she could have stayed here forever, listening like this to the sounds of the forest, enchanted by the grip of nuance. But like a fly in a web she was trapped by intrigue. She has the ability to get caught up leaf-like trifles.

Forever wasn't long enough, especially when she heeded the dank sound of forest footfalls nearing. He was quiet, but somehow she'd adapted a capacity for hearing, for feeling movements through the dense wood. As if some gilded nymph of nature gifted her, she felt him in all the quietness. With eyes suddenly weary, she lifted her gaze.

"Good day, M'lady,"

Feuille turned herself to face the stallion, shoulders allowing legs to cross over while she kept her haunches still to show all the grace involved in caution. She was cautious of her movements, not herself. She found it easy to relax in the presence of strangers and let her voice roll through daily melodies. It had been a while since she'd seen a soul. "Hello there," she said, voice softly floating over a damp wilderness. The calm of the moment let her senses relax, her tail drooped a bit while ears stay erect, but soft enough to waver in wind. She had the final days of youth making ends meet and she didn't need spunky dexterity for a conversation to jive. She had to admit, she felt a little intoxicated.

"Faelon is a noble name," the Jaune child returned as the white stallion spilled his name. "I am Feuille Jaune." She was getting to see him now, eyes focusing on the radiance of sunrise tresses and the purity of stark white. He stuck out among the forest, blessed with a pietistic figure, the colors of nobility. He reminded her briefly of fables and figures that led glorious royals through their enervated means of conquest.

Nearly as soon as the words dropped from her mouth, Feuille felt yet another presence in the forest. Her eyes drifted beyond Faelon to an emerging filly painted by a flirtatious brush. She reflected Feu's younger years, times before travel wore down her edges like the years of age on leather. She knew this filly, as instantly as she recognized youth, was going to be jaded.

"Greetings to you Abishia," the wanderer said with a white smile. "You may call me Feuille."

[I apologize for the tremendous wait!]

who's to say where the wind will take you
who's to know what it is will break you


Messages In This Thread
peregrination - by Feuille - 12-17-2013, 12:32 PM
RE: peregrination - by Faelon - 01-03-2014, 02:57 PM
RE: peregrination - by Abishia - 01-05-2014, 03:37 PM
RE: peregrination - by Feuille - 01-10-2014, 10:36 PM

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