Dawn 'till Dusk

[dusk]

<sup>Where will she go, not one knows. She travels like an eagle sawing through the sky. She travels like a ballet dancer, with grace and understanding. She travels like a jet fighter, with speed and cunning. Where will she go, not one knows.

The atmosphere lay still today, concelling the regions beauty with ints silent grasp. Moitionless to the breeze the foliage did not sway nor did they move their many thin branches. Silence lingered around every corner, in every gap, through every hole. A new day had just begun.

Her slender porcelin chassis was supported by the lengthy stilts, tipped in charchol her daggers sliced through the soft sod with ease. Her elegance and grace showed within her every stride. The proud dove arched her boa grandly and rested her carved tiara gently upon her chest. Well rounded in her hindquaters she strutted through the scrubland. Her wild silk tendrils flowing wildly from the center of her crest. Her dreads were free of anything as they floated on the breeze. But as she ceased her movements her threads fell delicately from the skies. She came not from the heaven seekers nor from the underworld, she simply came from nowhere, an outcast, homeless gypsy.

Her tassled banner lashing softly against her silk covered flanks left no imprintment on her jacket. Standing almost motionless she tilted her dial to one side and allowed her duos to listen. No sounds greeted her thorns nor a scent familier to her nares. She must be the only one left was her thought. But as she parted her velvet kissers she allowed her sweet musical tunes, to fill the lands beyond with her carefully chosen song. Now all the little wench had to do was wait for a bronc to come and introduce himself.</sup>

[Hypnotic]

Could you believe, that out of the untouched lands, there were actually ones with life within their grasp? A strnage thought to comprehend, but a wonderous one at that. It was a pleasure to find other equine life, whether or not it was the side your prefered. It was just a thing, really, to desire and strive for seeing others of your kind. Living alone is so over rated these days. The foliage growing thick on the turf swept at his limbs, much nicer than the sand particles that made him slip along beaches. Although he adored the water above all else, it was a nice thing to just walk along solid ground every once and awhile.

As the emerald stems brushed aginst his frame, eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any other life. The perfume he had come upon that lingered in the air was what he currently sought for, and lo and behold, here she was. A moonwashed femme, kissed by the light. Perfect. Fluid steps took him over towards her, confidence simply beaming. He didn't wish to pop over and give impressive titles, merely to speak to another of his type. Stopping far enough to give her and himself a bit of personal space, he let himself look her over, every flaw and focus. Now, looks weren't everything, but they certainly were a bit of something. An arabian by the looks of it, a soft grey. Wonderful.

Morning, miss, name's Hypnotic. Would you care to give your calling?

He almost used the word "curse" for name, but he had remembered the last time he had used that. If this was a dark mare, he had made a mistake for not using curse. If it was a light mare, he had probably saved himself an explosion. Though she looked more to the light side, looks could be misleading, as his were. He looked to be dark, being of darkest hue, but the way he carried himself and acted clearly displayed himself to be a light. Confusing, yes, but much easier to understand when you hang around him long enough. Otherwise, it's almsot as if he's speaking gibberish and should be kept in an insane asylum. But nevermind that. Forget it was even mentioned.

[dusk]

The warm rays of the bright light struck the earth with uneven strength. In some patches of the mountain it was out in the sun and in other parts yor body was covered in shade. A soft, almost silent breeze swept over the region gently lifting the greenherbage from its place in the sod. The strong trunks of foliage hardly moved as the squall travelled through. Large shapes formed clouds throughout the atmosphere. Some where pale and some were dark. All formed shapes like a colts tail. Some long and wispy others joined together to form towering mounds up in the blue.

Her delicate pistons carved their way through the evergreen herbage as she pranced around arrogantly. Her crown held high and her nape arched in a graceful cruve she looked a picture of joy and free will. Her dished profile gave hint of her arabian heritage and her fine boned structer gave more vauge hints. Her elegant bodice coated in a thin layer of dappled ivory hide was not covered in a the dampness of sweat nor rain but sleek and soft to touch. Twitching her towers she gazed around herself, glancing at the sea, the dunes and the peninsulas that were the sorrounding features. No other equine greeted her lonely cess pools. But from out of nowhere smooth vocals greeted her pricked zeniths. A stag had strode almost crept up behind her with the movements adopted by a cat. Silently stepping closer, inch by inch. But all he was after was a simple alias. Parting her fine maw to reveal her shiny dentals she allowed her musical tunes to exit her kissers.
Dear brute, my alias is simple my ways are not. But when most equines sleep, at Dusk I come ou to play.
Pausing from her speech she considered the barons own cursing, one almost as dark as his jacket yet still as light as the snow crystals. Hypnotic. If that be his alias she wanted to find out what he could do.

[Hypnotic]

Her tones were soft, as if kissed my flowers and sung by birds. He liked the way she hid her name in a type of riddle, appreciated in a world of those that could not be bothered with intellegence. Dusk. Playing the word over and over in his skull he sought for a way to remember it, landing on repeating her very words. Replaying, replaying, repeating, repeating. Storing it into a file like type of a mind her trusted he had done so well enough to remember her name, what she looked like, and every scent and sound she made. Like she had her own folder within a filing cabinet.

unfinished