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Post by Illinois on Apr 2, 2009 6:53:03 GMT -5
when I find myself in times of trouble mother mary come to me, speaking words of wisdom let it be, and in my our she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom let it be.
Pistons, stretched and tendons flexed. Pitch sythes pointed. Masculine stalks moving in unison. Gliding over the sod. Lush and painted a luinous attractive lime. Soft t the touoch and moist. Almost soggy yet still sun-cracked enough to prevent sink. Yonder the sky anemic blue. Cotton clouds crowded from view the cheerful features of the light. Heavy shadowing as coated the quigmere in patches. Preventing the heat from leaving a burn upon the pelt. Soft squall flowed over. Touching the branches with wispy fingers. Meanacing the tips of auburn leaves taunting the hard twig like extensions.
Stag stood peacefully, remanicing thoughts. Dark as he may be he shows a quiet side. Thoughtful and uncruel. Thinking box clear. Unclugged of pointless opinions of invisible caballo. Hopes and dreams streamed through, rarely settling for a minute. Pinnicles twitched ever slightly as the slightest sound entered. Nervous trembles caused flesh to quiver. Pelt to break a sweat. Dampening the russet coating thus causing a darker outline to appear.
Crazy he believed he was now. Hopeing for the medolic chords of another to eneter the plains. To flow from the voice box of an equine. To reverse the speech and spread a conversation. It was these simple things he yearned for witha lust that seemed painful. As night began to fall the winged creatures left their positions. Flying high to the tree tops to roost. Their families would wait. Eager to hear the tales of the day. He had no followers, no possesions to call his own. His hunger for comapanionship seemed to much for an individual to endure. He'd rather die.
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Post by Scene on Apr 5, 2009 7:38:29 GMT -5
Scene The females hocks where pushing up underneath her as she made her way up to the lush green lands of the grass covered hill top, she could just see the tips of the long juicy grass that seemed to call her name as she walked further towards it, she saw the back of a thoroughbred, she sighed she was hoping that she would be alone to graze not to worry about some stallion, especially if they were dark , sighing once more she made her way to the other side of the field away from the stallion that was in this land.
The sun was bright on her back the sun rays made her pelt seem to glitter in a way, she started to graze the lush grass was extremely tasty , and sweet against her taste buds, but then she looked at the stallion how handsome he seemed to her, she shook her head and looked down embarrassed by her own thoughts. Why don’t I just say hi there’s no harm in that is there? Thought Scene, but she shook her head she might seem a threat to the stallion it was better if he came to her, or was it? Scene was confused with the rush of thoughts that were slowly draining out as she walked over to the stallion forcing each step of the way until she was by his side. “Hello?” her voice was wary but soft in ways, Scene liked her voice for some reason she felt they were like lyrics of a song. Scene started to stamp her foot impatiently , letting out one more word “Scene...” that was the way she was called mainly because of her past of making a scene, that’s was what she answered to.
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Post by Illinois on Apr 5, 2009 16:47:44 GMT -5
Delicate chords and sweet, soft breath entered the towers. Flicking towards the dove he sighed. A long moan emmitted from his caverns. A doe had come to greet him. He lifted his nape and curved his crest to his chest. Carved visage bobbed in polite greetings. Naturally he was a devil. Hellish and cruel. But alas need for comunication seemed to change his alliance. He slithered closer to the petite bodice of the fae. Enamels ran over her dreaded nape. Laying rest on her wither. Slowly he inhaled the scent of the duchess. It was too long. He needed followers. he'd search te god forsaken planet in search. not resting until his cadre was full.
Prting his mug he allowed melodi chords to follow.
Dear girl. Dear Scene. My calling be's Illinois.
Pausing he allowed the vocals to sink in. Leaving an imprint upon her dream box. Slowy he started again. He didn't want to appear to eager. To stupid or to light.
Fae, tell me. Why are you here long today?
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Post by Scene on Apr 7, 2009 12:25:22 GMT -5
Flicking her mane she seemed un-interested but secretly she longed for that special stallion to fill in her heart, but her soul was black just like her coat, she stared at the handsome stallion her eyes dull and untamed as it seemed, it was said you could tell a lot about the person or in this case horse by their eyes, To herself Scene thought her eyes where dull,boring but that was very different to the horse she was, she was shy and very bubbly most of the time unless she was in one of her moods.
The stallions voice was so bold or so it was to her, it made her feel safe, the female looked away beyond the horizon not paying much attention to the male until he spoke once more his elegant voice seemed to feel Scene’s heart.
“Well , that would be a secret.”
Looking up at the sky, wondering what to say next, her mind was confused what should she do was the main thought , she came here to be alone not to find a extremely impressive stallion Scene cringed at the thought in her head.
”What are your plans for this day?” A smile appeared on her face, as she looked deep into the stallions eyes. [/blockquote]
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Post by Illinois on Apr 8, 2009 23:46:58 GMT -5
Stag shuffled away. Not shyly confident in his actions. Not to far. only seeing the fae trust him. He would not leave, no. He needed a wench to join him in his kingdom. To fill the cadre with cords of onversation. He needed a to bare babes. Strong colts and petitie fillies. This duschess seemed perfect although he needed to real her in. To captivate her in the lyrics he spoke. To encourage her to follow blindly home. Tossing his stout, russet crest. He tousseled his satin dreads. Striking the hard-suncracked sod with a ebon tipped stalk. His nares dilahated as he inhaled the scent of the . His twitching towers alert and ready. SEarching for the slightest of sounds. HIs cess-pools. Grey and shining brightly. Gazed intently at the dial of the lioness. Watching her features move. Forming the different exprssions he was viewing. Parting his velevts once more. His melodic vocals filling the clearing.
secret dollface. Can not be kept forever. Me, you ask. I'm on a mission to find the dove I seek.
His chords hung limply, dull even in the air. Softly floating, rotating upon the breeze. Gently awaiting his answer.
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Post by Scene on Apr 12, 2009 15:02:08 GMT -5
"Where would be your Herd , or are you a loner?" She snorted and nuzzled her head against his neck, she then started to look around herself the pretty little grazing area, and it was her favourite place.
"Well, I might just let you know why i was here this day , i was Secretly looking for some company really , I'm usually alone." She looked down and sighed her eyes dull.
She looked at him, to her he was wonderful his face just seemed to call her , well that was her feelings for the stallion although she didn't know him well , he was the first one to seem to care.
Her eyes suddenly looked at the stallion, brighter than usual , more blue. Her black coat got caught by the sun rays and seemed to sparkle, her heart was warming.
”It’s a nice day isn’t it, The weather seems to be getting hotter its rather nice, oh I can’t wait for the long summer days..” A small smile appeared on the muzzle of the black Morgan. Her Tail was held high in pure Morgan fashion.
n o t e s Sorry for very bad post’s recently ._. |
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Post by Illinois on Apr 12, 2009 17:13:14 GMT -5
The curved boa. Arched. Showing the highly strung. Filament. Brittle to the touch. Burs entangled within the sections of hair. The ivories. Tucked tight between the labrums. Not brushing the shoulder of the wench more. Sunlight. Streamed down upon his casing. Engulfing him in the bright radiance. Illuminating his masculin figure. A nobel prescense. Proud.
Pistons. Retlessly pawed. Carving the ground. Indenting the imprint of his flint upon the lush covered sod. The foliage. grew thick and green. Lowring his serpentine. HIs mug, drawing fourth over the quigmere. His fangs. Taking gulp of grass. Munching. Turning the saliva green. He seemed bored. He was through with polite conversation. She was his know and would follow. But a question still remained.
A stag. Never lives the life of a loner. You may join my cadre if you wish
Once more the chords flowed. Using the same, flat melodic tone. Vocals smooth. Easy to the ear. Drawing the doll closer. Having invited her to join him. He was sure she would accept. He needed a jezebelle. To keep him sane. And this lioness seemed perfect. Dark, stunning, witty, intelligent. Yes she would do just fine.
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Post by Scene on Apr 18, 2009 7:12:44 GMT -5
The female started to lower herself down onth the grassy bank and started to roll around on the lush strands of green like wire. Her body rolled on the green jelly like substance the dirt got in wired with bits of dirt. She was stunned with the offer she was upheled with , joining was it worth it, how was she meant to know.
"I shall think about it"
Scene was getting rather bored now she lay down her head on the dirty floor sighing forming a dusty atmosphere, she snorted the dust getting into her eyes.
"About you're offer, i might as well join, its better then being alone;"
She nuzzled the male grooming his back, her eyes shut as she did so the sun warmed up her heart.
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Post by Illinois on Apr 18, 2009 23:13:11 GMT -5
Holding his noble dial to the heavens above. Parting his velvet kissers in a yawn. Taking a large breathe he then replied to the dove. His speech rough. Still affectionate towards the dove.
Very well, join me in pine tree forest.
Hs hues of russet pelt were shing with the brght glimmers of sunlight. His orbs meanacing and mis-leading. Dull auburn in colour. His banner twitched lashing the skin above the hocks. Drawing blood. His pistons long and ready to move. He was sick of standing.
Turning his bodice he gently rubbed his enamels against the faes shoulder. Telling her to follow. With that he pivoted and the flowing gait of his two-beat carried him away. Across the lush foliage. Pausing he stopped to look if his new mare was following. Scene.
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