.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
04-01-2015, 10:08 PM
Bellisma
Despite the heat of Tallsun, the cold water began to send a chill through her thin skin. Her golden coat was meant for hot desert sun, not cool waterfall glens. Shivering once, she dunked her head beneath the surface in a rare display of faith- she was absolutely vulnerable. But it quickly passed as her face rose from the water, shivering again as the cool liquid slid down her neck and pooled on her back.
She watched Elsa as she spoke of her- now their- leaders. They didn’t seem so bad from her description. Perhaps she could meet Ghost, but she still wasn’t sure she’d want to meet Midas, and the mistrust flickered across her face at the thought.
Bellisma slowly started moving towards the bank, leaving clouds of red in her wake. The blood from the gash on her leg was no longer hidden by the mud sloughing off her body. The combination of cold and sting - both sensations Bell couldn’t stand, she much preferred the pain of broken bones and burning heat- made her answer Elsa’s questions without thinking, “I come from Qumox, a large desert. And my story is a failed one.”
She paused, her small black hooves sinking between the slippery rocks, as her flat words echoed across the water. They were swallowed by the sounds of the falls, but their hollowness still hung on her frame. “By that I mean my story was told once, passed down through generations,” indeed, the story of a small sun coming from the night clouds (her dam’s name) during a full moon (her sire’s name) to bring light to the desert, “But instead of bringing prosperity, I became-”
This pause was a painful one. It was long and sad. What had she become? Broken? Used? Caged? “I became a trapped pet.” That perhaps was the most pleasant way to phrase it. Her face cautiously turned to Elsa, her green eyes seeking the reaction to her words in the blue gaze. Surprise flickered as she realized the lack of a left eye in the mare. How did she miss that before?
She darted her gaze to the surface of the water, before returning it to Elsa’s face, “I hope your story is not so lamentable as mine?” The bells ended higher than they began, as her question probed gently. Bell didn’t care to relive her own past, so her question was one that could elicit a story or a simple answer. She hoped for a story, and one more cheerful than her own. Hoping now, Bell? How audacious.
ooc| I didn’t realize Elsa only had one eye >.< hehe @[Elsa]
She watched Elsa as she spoke of her- now their- leaders. They didn’t seem so bad from her description. Perhaps she could meet Ghost, but she still wasn’t sure she’d want to meet Midas, and the mistrust flickered across her face at the thought.
Bellisma slowly started moving towards the bank, leaving clouds of red in her wake. The blood from the gash on her leg was no longer hidden by the mud sloughing off her body. The combination of cold and sting - both sensations Bell couldn’t stand, she much preferred the pain of broken bones and burning heat- made her answer Elsa’s questions without thinking, “I come from Qumox, a large desert. And my story is a failed one.”
She paused, her small black hooves sinking between the slippery rocks, as her flat words echoed across the water. They were swallowed by the sounds of the falls, but their hollowness still hung on her frame. “By that I mean my story was told once, passed down through generations,” indeed, the story of a small sun coming from the night clouds (her dam’s name) during a full moon (her sire’s name) to bring light to the desert, “But instead of bringing prosperity, I became-”
This pause was a painful one. It was long and sad. What had she become? Broken? Used? Caged? “I became a trapped pet.” That perhaps was the most pleasant way to phrase it. Her face cautiously turned to Elsa, her green eyes seeking the reaction to her words in the blue gaze. Surprise flickered as she realized the lack of a left eye in the mare. How did she miss that before?
She darted her gaze to the surface of the water, before returning it to Elsa’s face, “I hope your story is not so lamentable as mine?” The bells ended higher than they began, as her question probed gently. Bell didn’t care to relive her own past, so her question was one that could elicit a story or a simple answer. She hoped for a story, and one more cheerful than her own. Hoping now, Bell? How audacious.
ooc| I didn’t realize Elsa only had one eye >.< hehe @[Elsa]
Nature's first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower; but only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf, so Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down day. Nothing gold can stay.
-Frost
Her early leaf's a flower; but only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf, so Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down day. Nothing gold can stay.
-Frost
Please tag Bellisma in every reply.
