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12-22-2012, 12:24 PM
K R I the R E S O L U T E
it's not the petty imperfections that define us, but the way we hold our hearts. MI see her, slowly inching for the borders of my land. In a snap of action, my wings turn down and drive me forward toward the bottom of the desert, the wind following quickly behind me. The mare might feel the brush of air before I arrived, but when I did she would not be happy. Whenever I am unhappy, the joy of those around me tends to disappear quickly. I make sure of that. I curve around to approach from her right, locking my wings into an easy glide of descent. I aim to throw my shoulder against hers and knock her back into attention. With or without the contact of flesh on flesh, my hooves meet with the dirt and I skid a few feet before pivoting sharply. My front end rises and falls, my neck twisting around and my teeth snapping in vehemence for a moment before I feel the larger mare with flaming blue eyes. "I told you that you were not to leave until I said so," my voice is low, dangerous, like cat growling at its prey just before pouncing. "Turn back." Venomxbaby, EveLivesey, humblebeez and ali00p
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