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12-31-2014, 08:31 PM
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the Storyteller
His voice is loud in her ears. She listens curiously at the single world he has yelled into the wet air. What is a veci? Intrigued by this word, she made a mental note to ask him later. Her attack is successful. She has nailed him with her tiny round hooves a few times, but with waning energy, her hooves fall back to the ground. The feeling of her hooves returning back to the sand-covered ground after erratically swinging everywhere with no specific aim, was satisfying. She felt her shoulder prickle with pain and chest continue to throb. These feelings of pain were ones that irked the gold mare. She looked at the stranger that she had just fought. He was injured too, but lucky for him she could heal-- heal him, herself, whoever. With a serious, concentrated expression, she glares at the sand between her and him. She willed life to emerge, willed it to grow petals and a stem. Within a few seconds, two eerily green flowers were full grown, next to each other, between the injured horses. "They heal." She stated plainly as her muzzle dropped to the closer flower, lips engulfing it. It's sweet taste is extreme in her mouth, but she likes the sickly sweet flower. It causes her wounds to mend themselves. Finally, she looks at the stallion expectantly, a broad smile on her face and a healthy body. However, she bends down once more, plucking the other flower out of the ground. This second and last flower hangs by a semi-long green stem (the flower part pointed at the stallion) between smiling lips. She stretches her muzzle forwards. "are you going cho ea it?" All she wanted to say, was "are you going to eat it?", but she doesn't want to drop the delicate flower on the sand, where the rain will surely deform it, so she has to awkwardly mumble. After posing her question, she tries pressing her muzzle closer, hoping he'll take it from her and let his wounds heal with each bite. "talk talk talk" |
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