| Hidden Account |
| Filly :: Tribrid :: 16.1 hands :: 2 Years |
| Sparrow |
11-17-2012, 02:03 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-18-2012, 07:17 AM by Israfel.)
closed, Torasin.
Pink cloven hooves tap a merry rhythm into the dark shale, countering the solemn breath of the tired sea with tireless energy and melody. Propelling them are long, tenuous legs, pale in color, which spin and twirl and dance like springtime nymphs; and the girl who wields them is as carefree and gay as they are, her lovely luminous vermilion eyes creased with laughter, and the sun dances within them in pools of brazen gold. Today, she brandishes a smile as broad as the horizon extending before her, and even through this wretched haze, she can see light shyly peeking over the plane of rock and sea, the boundary between dawn and day blurring with each moment passing. It is a lonely kind of day, today, but she fills the void with laughter and vivace. This forsaken girl, small, delicate, barely weaned off mama's tit, could not care less if she was surrounded by everyone in Helovia, rather, she embraces the loneliness - it gives her a kind of atonement; it allows her time with her father, who she could feel through the warm fingers of his sunlight, and his presence is as sure as the bone-hard rock she dances so blithely on.
|
|
| Deceased |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 8 |
| imi |
![[Image: torh.png]](http://imageshack.us/a/img821/6357/torh.png)
You call to me, and I fall at your feet.
How could anyone ask for more
Torasin was wondering through the dead forest with his brown lounging on his back, picking his teeth with his tail. The paint wasn't quite sure what he was going to be doing today, he had been up hours already, maybe he'd look for Mirage. Or go to the Threshold and see if there was anyone lingering.
It was the her happy voice that chimed with illustrious laughter that caught the attention of the painter Sir. Dawn broke into day and the servant of the Sun found the daughter of the very master he begrudgingly served, the daughter of his teacher Smoke the WildRose. Torasin felt the need to introduce himself to the young filly who frolicked in youthful dance upon the jagged rocks of the World's Edge. Her body a shining white with pink lips and golden bands on her thin, able legs. Flowers played in her sand bleached hair and growing wings bore gilded henna designs intriguing to the simple eyes of the Advocate. The paint smiled as Kiba flew off to join there mare in her graceful movements, trilling as he flicked and dipped in the air with his claws scratching against the rocks as he dropped each foot.
Torasin pranced over to the filly with a merry face and his cream tail held high in the rising sun. "Hello Miss! I'm glad to see the daughter of the Sun is well" voice matching the joy in his honest face. It was nice to be finally out of the trees and feel the sea air on his face, forelock whipped up in the breeze as he closed his eyes and welcomed its embrace.
[she's so adorable <33]
|
| Hidden Account |
| Filly :: Tribrid :: 16.1 hands :: 2 Years |
| Sparrow |
The sunchild does not dance alone; early morning breezes hail a handsome earthen dragon she does not recognize, and with a cry of excitement, the girl bounces towards him, eyes bright with the prospect of having company. "Zaffre would like you," she coos, bounding toward Kiba; they whirl and tumble together, like long-lost friends, until the soft voice of this dragon's bonded rings out over the stone like the soft sigh of the nearby sea. Ears alert, the filly flicks her head coyly toward him, the half-grown antler on her forehead glimmering slightly in the muggy dawn. She studies him with eyes wide with wonder: light gathers and congeals around his graceful form in great swaths of gold and yellow, sliding off his hair in pearl-white. Israfel pauses in her movement, awe spreading like impending day on her face; is this what father looks like? A gold-clothed god, radiant and beautiful? A wide smile expands slowly on her delicate pink lips, threatening to crack her face in half. She knows the palomino cannot be her sire, for mother describes the god as perpetually flame-robed, with eyes like magnificent twin-suns and wings that block out the sky when extended, but the little demigoddess could not help but be instantly fond of this gentleman, swathed in honey and pearl, and decides to greet him thusly. Still grinning, always grinning, the pale girl inclines her head politely, eyes flicking momentarily towards the Brown in an exchange of glances like partners in crime, before turning to the paint. "Hello!" she calls brightly, as if addressing a close friend, "What's your name?" Sunshine filters blissfully through the fog, happy to be in the company of such mirthful children of the sun. Today will be a nice day, she thinks, gazing at the tall stallion with wide, wonderful eyes; she can feel it.
|
|
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
