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12-21-2016, 09:44 AM
Graasvoel
I WILL FLY ON
THE WINGS OF A VULTURE
THE WINGS OF A VULTURE
The vulture is attracted to beauty—in an almost metaphysical sense. So attune to the allure of physical enchantment is the giant Korofi stallion that he finds himself stumbling into the lovely storyteller's circle of snow. His sharp, hot gaze of red and yellow land first on her antlers—they were elegant, sweeping things—before studying the pale contours of her face and lithe lines of her bode. Ears, starkly pale against the dark, gnarled mess of his forelock and mane, perk forward as he slowly and heavily folded his legs and settled onto the chilly, soft bed of powder. His thick, hairy, tawny hide did insulate him well against the cold, however.
Massive wings of mottled feathers ruffle, trapping warm air against his hot hide—though a glance was spared towards any chilled mare that may wish to snuggle beneath one of his large, feathered appendages. He would be happy to share his warmth.
And then he stilled, expectantly waiting and then listening to the beautiful, fair Philosopher’s words. His sharp gaze watched the delicate paws of her companion as she gently lowered her ice-crown to the snow. He watched it glimmer and gleam in the intense, but short-lived, daylight.
“Fair lady, do you know from where the Earth Turtle comes?” His gruff, deep voice questioned, curiosity replacing the desire that usually colored his starkly marked face.
Massive wings of mottled feathers ruffle, trapping warm air against his hot hide—though a glance was spared towards any chilled mare that may wish to snuggle beneath one of his large, feathered appendages. He would be happy to share his warmth.
And then he stilled, expectantly waiting and then listening to the beautiful, fair Philosopher’s words. His sharp gaze watched the delicate paws of her companion as she gently lowered her ice-crown to the snow. He watched it glimmer and gleam in the intense, but short-lived, daylight.
“Fair lady, do you know from where the Earth Turtle comes?” His gruff, deep voice questioned, curiosity replacing the desire that usually colored his starkly marked face.
Gaal raises his wing for any fair lady (or fella) to snuggle with him while listening to the story! ;]
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