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12-14-2012, 02:15 AM
Nasicaä ((the cold and crackling breath of fantasy)) Morning birds began their distant song, passionately celebrating the unknown joys of their mates to be, with even greater fervency arguing with their neighbors. Cardinal and crow. The heartbroken red of dawn still fended off the shadows that simmered in the folds and corners of the forest - the traveler took care to angle away from them, not knowing what hostilities may make their homes in this new land. The ambling canter of cloven hooves was swung wide in sanguine assurance, dark platforms alighting to pebble and moss with a careless clatter, and the mare feeling quite confident in her solitude. Rosy eyes mimicked the dawn in the way that they were partially concealed; the fractured pink sky by the brooding cover of clouds - her eyes, hooded by heavy lashes in complacent reverie. The troubles of her raped and pillage homelands were behind, a distant and unsalvagable memory. It was easier to exist in this dreamlike state of the now than to acknowledge an old dream as it tried to resurface. She was reminded so much of it by the damp chill on the wind, though. Black plumed appendage of her tail brushed against a tree in tender affection, a passing and false warmth, for the rough bark was a cold reminder that this was far from home. A heavy sigh heaved from her lungs, sending a warmer billow of air to fade into the brightening light. She plodded stoically onward. |
