the Rift


For Whom the Bell Tolls

Balkin Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#1

Balkin
I wish you not a path devoid of clouds,
nor a life on a bed of roses.




The spring rains are relentless. The clear drenching droplets plummet to the ground exploding as they meet their demise. The sky is dreary and grey, bringing a sense of nostalgia to the scene. Occasionally sparks of lightening flash through the weeping canvas, accompany by a vibrant clack of thunder. Honestly, the whole storm is a beautiful symphony of music and wonderful displays that speak to everyone on some small level.The play of lightening and thunder was enriching to watch; however, it is the mud and muck the storm leaves in it's wake that is such a bother to traipse through, even under the shielding layers of canopy that loomed over head.

The squishing sound of Balkin's cloven hooves sinking into the soft liquified soil made her ears twitch in annoyance. Her characteristic predatory golden eyes are sharp and watching with continued caution. Balkin was never one to trust easily. She circles a small clearing within the threshold, reluctant to leave her security of outlining trees. Circling for a few more minutes, Balkin watches and listens for anything or anyone that might be out on the prowl. Finally, the entity once known as Balkin the obscured, steps from her fortress of trees and eases into the open. This place was familar; yet, it was not. She tilts and swivels her head for a better glimpse at the area, before turning her glare towards the leaking heavens.

The roan unicorn had been on her own since the decimating sundering of Isilme. Much like before she had wondered into the Woodlands, she is once again a nomad. She held no direction or course. She simply walks and travels, never really staying in one place for to long. Her unwavering mask of diplomacy forever in place. It did not take long for forest to beckon Balkin back into it's arms. Her black threaded tail swishes at the thought of returning, the motion of her tail slings water onto her already flooded coat. The water that saturated her dappled roan coat, makes her appear darker then usually, only her white face mask stands out like a lighthouse beacon. she fights the urge she slip back into her comfort zone, and instead lowered her head to lip at the wet greenery beneath her. Her slender lobes were erect continuing to monitor her surroundings.

"Unicorn x Mare x 10 x Blue Roan x Unclaimed x No Lover"





Messages In This Thread
For Whom the Bell Tolls - by Balkin - 07-09-2012, 10:54 AM
RE: For Whom the Bell Tolls - by Ulrik - 07-09-2012, 05:42 PM
RE: For Whom the Bell Tolls - by Balkin - 07-09-2012, 09:16 PM
RE: For Whom the Bell Tolls - by Ulrik - 07-11-2012, 07:43 PM
RE: For Whom the Bell Tolls - by Balkin - 07-17-2012, 10:50 AM

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