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05-07-2015, 11:04 AM
Bellisma
She snapped her dainty mouth closed at his derisive words. They were sharp and condescending- she knew this breed of stallion well. Her frame, once stiff with fear, hardened into resigned acquiescence- and the green eyes glassed over as they lost the fearful white ring around them.
Terror was an interesting thing, it came with apprehension of the unknown. But now, as she visibly wilted beneath his hard gaze, the panic seemed to ebb out. She knew what came from callous-eyed, sharp-tongued stallions. That was all she knew.
Abruptly, emerald gaze drops as her breath returns, “I-I apologize, sire. Pardon my ill-manners, I am Bellisma-” the quiet bells are cut off by his derogatory question. Though Bellisma only inferred the offense by his tone, for she already assumed herself beneath him. Well- not beaneath him, but certainly inferior.
“Horn-hornless?” unintentionally, her tongue repeats the strange jibe. Quite obviously she had no horn- and if she had had one she knew Rrazmik would have ripped it out. He’d done that to one of his pets. She was glad she had no horn… Thin, golden skin rippled a the memory. Bright gaze flicks up to his horns, thick lashes blinking rapidly, before she returns her eyes to his chest, “I… I’m discovering Helovia,” the chiming of her voice still sounded awkward around the four syllables. “I’m newly of the Hidden Falls,” eyes glance to the path that led her up here- it wasn’t far from her herdlands, “and all I’ve met have been kind,” her voice hushes at the end, like a quiet plea to the large stallion.
She shifts her sculpted face towards his small leather bag as he shifts it- this was the first she had seen of such in Helovia. In Qumox only medicinemen carried such things- and medicinemen were of a different sort in the desert. Yes, they healed the useful and important souls; but, they also used their knowledge to bring pain and torture. Nervousness crosses her face and pulls unthinking words from her mouth, “What do you carry in your bag?” This time her rang clearly and loudly, eyes colliding once more with the stallion’s hard gaze. Her body visibly quivered once more, and her mind thought to flee as she unknowingly leaned towards the path she had just ascended.
ooc| Sorry about the delay [@d'Artagnan]
Nature's first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower; but only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf, so Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down day. Nothing gold can stay.
-Frost
Her early leaf's a flower; but only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf, so Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down day. Nothing gold can stay.
-Frost
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