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06-05-2017, 02:59 PM
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otem
You'll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley You can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold "You never told me what to call you-" Otem's voice is confident, despite its youthful tenor. A pair of golden and burgandy eyes focused on the tall and lean form of Isopia, as the mare gazed out at the water. Even though the girl was young, if she quieted her thoughts and turned her mind inwards, she could feel all these different sorts of things. Though perhaps feel wasn't particularly the right word. It was more like her mind was the one feeling them. Like her mind was knowing them. Like now, she felt oddly claustrophobic despite how wide open the throat seemed to be, and that she attributed to the mare before her. Standing still and patient, the tribrid filly gazed at her mother's backside, waiting for her to turn around and respond to the accusation she had just offered. In the tangled auburn base of her mane, Pandora peaked her head out, watching the scene with large golden eyes. Even though she was just a chick, she could sense the dragons around, and although they were all predators, she could easily be a snack for them. |
