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04-11-2015, 04:28 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-11-2015, 04:28 PM by Carnassial.)
Carnassial
“Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.”
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth With purpose the orange-painted stallion moved through the trees, long limbs carrying him with a poise one expects of confidence and nobility. For that was what he was; old-blooded and royal-born, a prince who willingly put himself into exile. His intent, at the beginning, had been to merely avoid being a possible threat(as little as it was) to the current queen's monarchy. Eventually he heard word of one of his kin, a small mare with wings behind the ears. His cousin too, had left their land, and her trail led him here, where it had gone cold. Now he faced a choice; to continue searching for the only kin he knew of outside his birthplace, or to find purpose elsewhere. He mulled over his options as he paused to graze, cream-hued lips cropping the grass. Almost every movement was measured, efficient, no unnecessary energy spent. He did not swat at the flies until they became too much to tolerate, did not move from his spot until all the edible grass was gone. Once he ate his fill he raised his head, ears pricked as he looked around his surroundings. It was quiet, peaceful, not a sentient soul to be found. Birds trilled in the misty morning air, crickets buzzed from the bushes, determined to finish their mating cycle before the warmth went away. His golden gaze lifted to the trees as a bird returned to it's nest of older fledglings, and one by one the mother bird shoved the chicks out of the nest, and his lips curled as the fledglings fluttered around, setting up a ruckus in indignation. Long tail twitched, the long hairs at the end smacking away the flies from his haunches. They draw his attention away from the birds, back to the land around him. Back to the choice he faced. He cocked a foot and relaxed, rumbling to himself as he retreated into his thoughts to consider his path. "Speech speech speech" |
