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12-27-2014, 12:44 AM
I heard his name, and I came. What were they saying of my brother?
There were two mares, Africa and the one I had met not a while ago. Midas had brought the Sultana of the Throat here? Why? Did he love her, or her to him? Were they siblings, friends? I came as a blur of gold and blonde, halting at the entrance of the cave, the rain still pouring heavily. Normally, I would ask who they were and why they were in a prison cell, but I wanted to know more of this Midas-Sultana situation. As I glanced them over, my happiness visibly dropped. Africa, she is gorgeous and powerful-- even without an appendage she must cherish dearly. All the stallions must love her. "Hello Sultana and Friend." I said plainly, my soft voice almost drowned out by the rain. I wondered secretly if this was jealousy. Did I like the stallion more than friends? No, that wasn't possible. I wouldn't love him... Mares probably throw themselves at him. Quickly, I push the thought out of my mind, a forced smile curving my lips upwards. "Might I enter?"
As she stood in the rain, she grew worried. If Midas left for a mare, who would she go to for advice? Who would be her friend? It was nonsense to believe I couldn't go to him for a conversation if he had a mate. I'm just overthinking things. I don't love Midas, he's a friend and that is all. I ended my train of thought on that note. My conclusion that Midas and I were just friends settled in my mind comfortably. I couldn't like him more than that, it was impossible. It was the birdsong willies, they made me crazy in love.
I glanced backwards, looking into the rain and noticing it bouncing off of a green cloak. "That's yours, right?" I asked Africa, tossing my head in the direction of the cloak-- making it clear that is what I'm talking about. The cloak was beautiful, the rain bouncing off it as it hung, getting washed. I glanced back at them, still curious about the cloak. Had she given it to the white draft? Or was it merely getting cleaned?
There were two mares, Africa and the one I had met not a while ago. Midas had brought the Sultana of the Throat here? Why? Did he love her, or her to him? Were they siblings, friends? I came as a blur of gold and blonde, halting at the entrance of the cave, the rain still pouring heavily. Normally, I would ask who they were and why they were in a prison cell, but I wanted to know more of this Midas-Sultana situation. As I glanced them over, my happiness visibly dropped. Africa, she is gorgeous and powerful-- even without an appendage she must cherish dearly. All the stallions must love her. "Hello Sultana and Friend." I said plainly, my soft voice almost drowned out by the rain. I wondered secretly if this was jealousy. Did I like the stallion more than friends? No, that wasn't possible. I wouldn't love him... Mares probably throw themselves at him. Quickly, I push the thought out of my mind, a forced smile curving my lips upwards. "Might I enter?"
As she stood in the rain, she grew worried. If Midas left for a mare, who would she go to for advice? Who would be her friend? It was nonsense to believe I couldn't go to him for a conversation if he had a mate. I'm just overthinking things. I don't love Midas, he's a friend and that is all. I ended my train of thought on that note. My conclusion that Midas and I were just friends settled in my mind comfortably. I couldn't like him more than that, it was impossible. It was the birdsong willies, they made me crazy in love.
I glanced backwards, looking into the rain and noticing it bouncing off of a green cloak. "That's yours, right?" I asked Africa, tossing my head in the direction of the cloak-- making it clear that is what I'm talking about. The cloak was beautiful, the rain bouncing off it as it hung, getting washed. I glanced back at them, still curious about the cloak. Had she given it to the white draft? Or was it merely getting cleaned?
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