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01-05-2016, 05:07 AM
Quiet observation let the stallion see the mare, truly see her, though he practised a quiet expression upon his façade as he made his evaluation. Their colours weren't entirely dissimilar, though his mane and tail held a magnetic opposition to the rich chocolate palomino of his pelt, and her deep mahogany was bordered by a darker, deeper black. The longer he looked, the more he realised that perhaps they were only similar in their differences - he was rimmed with light, while she with dark, and yet could that be said for their inner selves?
Not likely, he thought, chasing the very idea of defining himself so narrowing away. Grimalkin simply was - there was no defining him.
Given the mare's previous indifference, he was somewhat surprised to hear her take his poorly constructed reply and return with what appeared to be a (heartfelt?) truthful answer. Brings back memories.. her words tapered away like errant thoughts, Grimalkin could not help but be drawn in by the ideal. What had the mare been through? What did the sea, the ocean, hold for her, what memories, what tales did these sands of time beneath their hooves have to tell?
But he could not ask that, he could not delve deeply, no matter how much he longed to, for it was simply not his way.
Grimalkin sniffs at first when she asks her question, and he takes a small step towards her, only to turn himself so that he might look out across the sands and the waves as she originally was. He does not mean to show indifference to her question, but rather, a thoughtfulness, an appreciation for a question that warranted a deeper reply than my feet.
"I suppose I do," he spoke softly, his words offered clearly, without contempt, instead with dry honesty. "Though I do not visit it often enough."
Not likely, he thought, chasing the very idea of defining himself so narrowing away. Grimalkin simply was - there was no defining him.
Given the mare's previous indifference, he was somewhat surprised to hear her take his poorly constructed reply and return with what appeared to be a (heartfelt?) truthful answer. Brings back memories.. her words tapered away like errant thoughts, Grimalkin could not help but be drawn in by the ideal. What had the mare been through? What did the sea, the ocean, hold for her, what memories, what tales did these sands of time beneath their hooves have to tell?
But he could not ask that, he could not delve deeply, no matter how much he longed to, for it was simply not his way.
Grimalkin sniffs at first when she asks her question, and he takes a small step towards her, only to turn himself so that he might look out across the sands and the waves as she originally was. He does not mean to show indifference to her question, but rather, a thoughtfulness, an appreciation for a question that warranted a deeper reply than my feet.
"I suppose I do," he spoke softly, his words offered clearly, without contempt, instead with dry honesty. "Though I do not visit it often enough."
colourize-stock & larfsalot @deviantart
@Essetia
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
