I prefer being on my own. I feel more comfortable whenever keeping to myself but there are some gatherings that even I must at least observe. The world begins outside of my comfort zone, or that is what I have heard, so I am trying to learn how to press those boundaries. From what I was able to hear while eavesdropping tucked away a good deal of boundary pushing is being done among those who have met here. I wonder what tap dancing is. I wonder what the stallion who had came for recruitment representing the Edge feels about having recruited instead for his own fan base. Quietly I come to stand beside a young mare who appears to be around the same age as me. Is the other stallion the sort that mares flock to? I turn my eyes to him and I focus on giving a good look over. Starting with his antlers I trace my eyes down them to his body. My eyes explore the maze of his striped markings. Nothing in me stirs at his appearance. This antlered stallion is apparently not my type. I feel obligated to say something. "I am Faeanne." I start with the obvious. "Do you know what tap dancing is?" Dancing I know of although I have never tried it out. Whenever I was younger I missed out in many of the playful dances fillies and colts had. Then once my condition was healed by the God of the Sun and I became capable of exerting myself physically the fillies and colts had moved on to new games. Hearing another of grown age speak of dancing excites me. Watching the feminine stallion's wings flutter makes me feel extremely aware of my own wings. I am not vain but I think that my wings are beautiful I could not imagine not having my feathers. Half spreading a wing I cannot help but begin to preen. For pegasi the urge to preen can sometimes be impossible to deny. I adore the golden dust that is sprinkled along my wings and body. My birth mother left me with nothing more than the gift of breath in my lungs and the beautiful markings that grace my otherwise ordinary coat. It is as if I see the markings more as a remaining piece of my absent mother to clutch to than markings that are my own. After I am satisfied with how my feathers sit I fold my wing back to my side. I ignore the desire to mess with my other wing. I feel self conscious preening among others even if I do offer little to the conversation. "Do you think," My eyes return to the pair of stallions, but my words are directed at Vitani ,"that if the odd winged one were female the other would flirt also?" I feel bad for the stallion with a mane that rivaled the sky's blue. He is certainly lovely. But even as a native I cannot think of any stallion who is so open about his preference for his own sex. If there are any I am sure that this fellow can bring them out. I truly wish him the best. OOC:: I am going to write this as though it took place sometime before Faeanne's other thread here in the Threshold. I just really wanted this opportunity for her to meet Vitani. I would love for them to befriend each other and eventually find out that they are half sisters. @Rohan @Quentin @Vitani |
Table by Nicole (Niki)