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08-29-2015, 05:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-29-2015, 06:59 PM by Aisling.
Edit Reason: so many typos and tense-shifts D:
)
To hold all the promise of blue-velvet dark and stars Even in her melancholy, the faerie girl was a dreamer, and standing there staring at the moon was exactly what one of her tragic heroines would do. There was a part in every story where all seemed lost; where the looming clouds of doom seemed like they would linger forever and all was hopeless. It was then, the princess would make a wish, or cast a spell, or do something terribly beautiful and tragic and then would come the sun, metaphorically or literally. Aisling always like the stories where the break in the darkness meant the coming of a dashing hero (for they were always dashing) to save the day. The silence of the night is broken abruptly and the the little white mare jumpes in surprise. She moves, her sturdy little hooves fidgety with fright as she spins her hindquarters around so she can face the sound. The shout had not come from a nightbeast or any approaching army, but in fact a unicorn, just about her size, who glows in the moonlight just as bright as herself as he approaches her. The red-maned man comes to stand beside her and speaks as if he had met her before and that has the mare blinking rapidly in surprise and pulling her head back before stating out of storm-grey eyes. “Creideamh!” the curse comes out quiet and breathless as she glances behind to see if there might be some other that he was speaking to but there only the shifting grass and darkness. “Ah.. are ye?” she asks, still quite uncertain, turning her face back toward the little stallion. Her long braid swayes with the motion, ribbons dancing at the end of it. Normally pleased by any new company, the shock of the man’s approach and his form of address has the girl momentarily in shock, not to mention she was distracted by some cool, delightful smell. “Would there be something the matter? It’s sorry I am, but I don’t believe we’ve met.” Her sweet little little lilt was still fuzzy with confusion and dimmed by her melancholy mood, but in her heart the little flicker started; the faerie girl shined brightest in good company. “.” translations: creideamh - faith |
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::
