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08-17-2012, 04:46 PM
Blue eyes crying in the early morning rain.
Sterling gives in to inky blacks and iron - blooms of darkness against silver-white, a sign of winter. She stands before the steep incline of the World's Edge, sedately listening to the sea as she whispers to those who choose to hear, of wisdom and warning, of ancient wars and peaceful futures to come. Mellow blue eyes drift like wood along the flat pane of her dark horizon, mesmerized by her infinity. Tell me your secrets, she pleas, turning her head to regard the pale, skulking pup beside her whose eyes were glassy with sadness. "Reprieve will come, Raindancer," roan says softly, like the last rains of autumn that give into winter frosts. She nudges his scruffy body gently, letting a rough pink tongue run over his sullen face. "It always does," she adds, a mere whisper, licking him again. He yelps, toddling clumsily between her forelegs.  |
