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05-01-2014, 10:41 AM
Her smile only broadens as she takes in the surprised and thoughtful expression that crosses his face in the wake of her promise to not cheat. It was just like a wingless one, to forget about aerial travel. But she didn't hold that against him. Why would he ever think of suggesting she fly ahead, when his feet are so firmly attached to the ground?
"But if I'd flown ahead, we wouldn't have had a chance to talk." Her tone is gently teasing, though a dark drift of thought lingers in the back of her mind. Thinking of how she wouldn't have been expecting the many changes he described, and would have been considerably less prepared than she was now. Though she secretly doubted she was as prepared as she thought she was, it was a doubt she shunned in favor of the bright expectations of meeting familiar faces once again.
It is then that he shifts, dark shadows lifting in favor of straining energy. Prancing steps and whipping tail; it is a vague abstract observation that this suits him better in the back of her mind, a whisper of approval and appreciation that has another segment of her mind pondering over the thought. But not for long, as he suddenly leaps forward with a laughing challenge.
Slender ears swept forward and a tasseled tail lashes behind as the silver child swings after, merry laughter ringing in the air as she chased after her friend. Though she had promised not to cheat, she cannot help but lift her wings a little from her sides in order to accomodate the swift movements a race demanded. And it is hard to say whether those wings slowed her down a little or gave an extra spring to her stride, or whether the two effects cancelled each other out and she was just as fast as she would have been without them. Regardless, she did her best to stay close to Dragomir's side, not particularly trying to out-run him. What if the paths had changed, or new hazards arisen? It was safer, more fun, to allow the older stallion to thunder just ahead and save what energy she could for a last burst and maybe outpace him in the end. It was hard to say who had the greater advantage. He, with his longer stride and more developed stamina. Or she, with her lighter build and conservative tactics. But it was fun, nonetheless, to feel the wind whipping against her face, to hear her heartbeat keeping time with her ponding hooves, even if it was nearly drowned out in the thunder of the painted stallion's strides. So fun, in fact, that she couldn't help a playful exhale that resulted in a distinctly dragon-shaped streamer of flame that managed to outpace them both for a few precious seconds before fading away.
"But if I'd flown ahead, we wouldn't have had a chance to talk." Her tone is gently teasing, though a dark drift of thought lingers in the back of her mind. Thinking of how she wouldn't have been expecting the many changes he described, and would have been considerably less prepared than she was now. Though she secretly doubted she was as prepared as she thought she was, it was a doubt she shunned in favor of the bright expectations of meeting familiar faces once again.
It is then that he shifts, dark shadows lifting in favor of straining energy. Prancing steps and whipping tail; it is a vague abstract observation that this suits him better in the back of her mind, a whisper of approval and appreciation that has another segment of her mind pondering over the thought. But not for long, as he suddenly leaps forward with a laughing challenge.
Slender ears swept forward and a tasseled tail lashes behind as the silver child swings after, merry laughter ringing in the air as she chased after her friend. Though she had promised not to cheat, she cannot help but lift her wings a little from her sides in order to accomodate the swift movements a race demanded. And it is hard to say whether those wings slowed her down a little or gave an extra spring to her stride, or whether the two effects cancelled each other out and she was just as fast as she would have been without them. Regardless, she did her best to stay close to Dragomir's side, not particularly trying to out-run him. What if the paths had changed, or new hazards arisen? It was safer, more fun, to allow the older stallion to thunder just ahead and save what energy she could for a last burst and maybe outpace him in the end. It was hard to say who had the greater advantage. He, with his longer stride and more developed stamina. Or she, with her lighter build and conservative tactics. But it was fun, nonetheless, to feel the wind whipping against her face, to hear her heartbeat keeping time with her ponding hooves, even if it was nearly drowned out in the thunder of the painted stallion's strides. So fun, in fact, that she couldn't help a playful exhale that resulted in a distinctly dragon-shaped streamer of flame that managed to outpace them both for a few precious seconds before fading away.
