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i've got my feet on the ground and i don't go to sleep to dream |
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His cold reaction made her rosy lips twist and purse, her tail flicking anxiously, her muscles tensing in readiness to spin on her feathered heel and walk away. This guy is a total prick. If only one of her brothers was here – they would certainly teach him how to treat their little sister. She straightens herself, but her full height doesn't exceed his, still she feels a touch more confident with a prouder posture. “Ah,” She nods and mocks his smile with a cheesy, forced one of her own. “What a dazzling place you must hail from then.” She rolls those golden eyes and says these few words beneath her soft smoky breath. This tension settles when her question is answered with the same coldness, but a strand or two of something different dancing in his voice. Is he not real? Is he a trap, or figment? A riddle? She contorts her face a little, involuntarily. It happens when she's trying to solve something with any amount of struggle. You know, thinking. She eyes him suspiciously, but doesn't respond to his declaration of being new. With nothing more to offer and a rather rejected feeling settling in the pit of her gut, she flattens her ears and turns away, walking down the shallow hill toward a brightening horizon and turning into the forest soon after. He's a rather unpleasant entity to be around, so it's going to be much more fun to find someone or something different to occupy her mind. Guess what? You have shitty luck and you're all alone little Macaria. Upon moving out of sight and into the shadowed forest where she travels often, she steps off the path, which is also pretty typical of her. Scramble, scramble, THUD. She manages to find an old trap – oh yes, trap – and has fallen into it. Luckily the spears meant to debilitate its victim have rotted long ago. Debris piled over the deep hole, moss growing over it like any other piece of earth... Well, you can easily guess what happens now. She's in a hole. About twelve by twelve feet, but down too deep for her to clamor out, even with those climber's feet. What the hell. She digs, snorts, even screams out with a long, reverberating whinny. Dust rises from the depression in the soil and rocks, a few of her calls manage to echo out, but really she is doubtful anyone will come. After a small, frustrated and rather whiny attempt at releasing herself, she retires to her haunches with a sigh. Meh. She tries to think of what she can do, thinking of that time a chestnut stranger she met in the threshold also fell in a hole...His rescue required two other adults. Her hope slowly wanes, but still she looks around for any feeble option at getting out. (She left him and found a hole in the ground she didn't see and promptly fell into said hole. Feel free to leave her there or laugh at her or whatever you want. Also, others are welcome to come mock/help/watch her struggle. Illumia – sorry for the wait too, so sorry) |
macaria |
