.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-04-2016, 09:46 PM
esinakh
vod chafaan
dust to the wind
The strangling’s ears perked forward. A call? Arakh would be there. Arakh was always in the thick of things; brother calf always wanted to be apart of the action. Whereas Esi… Esi was happy at the edges. Safe and clean and whole. She could watch—she liked to watch. She kept herself pristine that way, but she also could be near brother. And some part of her wanted to be around other foals. Even if it was from a distance, mostly.
So the little calf, who ever-so-slowly creeped out of the trees, glanced towards the two other fillies already there. Brother wasn’t here yet? Her barred face cocked in surprise as she watched those that had already gathered. The King, the Nightwind, and filly older than her, and one around her age. Thought she was more focused on their markings (and the symmetry of them) than their ages.
She huffed softly, unhappy at the golden girl’s amorphous white blobs, her own body unsettled. So she turned her head and began to preen her already glistening white feathers of her white wing—if she could not fix the unruly markings then at least she could make her own white gleam evenly.
She swayed, alternating in even increments between preening her feathers, looking at others, and scrubbing the white sock on her front right leg. Though the pale markings were the bane of her existence as they never kept fully clean, the girl at least had something to do while she nervously waited.
So the little calf, who ever-so-slowly creeped out of the trees, glanced towards the two other fillies already there. Brother wasn’t here yet? Her barred face cocked in surprise as she watched those that had already gathered. The King, the Nightwind, and filly older than her, and one around her age. Thought she was more focused on their markings (and the symmetry of them) than their ages.
She huffed softly, unhappy at the golden girl’s amorphous white blobs, her own body unsettled. So she turned her head and began to preen her already glistening white feathers of her white wing—if she could not fix the unruly markings then at least she could make her own white gleam evenly.
She swayed, alternating in even increments between preening her feathers, looking at others, and scrubbing the white sock on her front right leg. Though the pale markings were the bane of her existence as they never kept fully clean, the girl at least had something to do while she nervously waited.
Please tag Esinakh.
