Post by Kona on Aug 30, 2005 16:41:59 GMT -4
call me <> Kona
age me <> 6
show me <> light
color me <> dark bay
breed me <> thoroughbred
sex me <> mare
The hard-packed snow flew in large clumps as the fae thundered over the turf, pinions extending, then snapping back, almost to her diaphragm in her length of stride. She ran from nothing, towards nothing, just ran for the joy of running, for the wind in her locks, and the cold surge of the moon on her pelt. Maw wide, she stretched her neck and screamed her passion into the night. With each harsh breath from distended nares, a plume of steam billowed off, and disipated into the dark of the sky, taking with it a little bit of the vixens raw energy and power. She was beautiful, no doubt, for her stilts were long, and her diaphragm deep, but that was not the quality that drew orbs. For she held within her bosom a passoin and a love for everything and everyone, and once that love became known there was no getting past it, or turning it away. She was fiercely loyal, and she longed to have a stag love her the way she would always love him. So she thundered on, her mind on nothing but the snow beneath her flints, the sky over her crown and the smell of hope in her nares.
age me <> 6
show me <> light
color me <> dark bay
breed me <> thoroughbred
sex me <> mare
The hard-packed snow flew in large clumps as the fae thundered over the turf, pinions extending, then snapping back, almost to her diaphragm in her length of stride. She ran from nothing, towards nothing, just ran for the joy of running, for the wind in her locks, and the cold surge of the moon on her pelt. Maw wide, she stretched her neck and screamed her passion into the night. With each harsh breath from distended nares, a plume of steam billowed off, and disipated into the dark of the sky, taking with it a little bit of the vixens raw energy and power. She was beautiful, no doubt, for her stilts were long, and her diaphragm deep, but that was not the quality that drew orbs. For she held within her bosom a passoin and a love for everything and everyone, and once that love became known there was no getting past it, or turning it away. She was fiercely loyal, and she longed to have a stag love her the way she would always love him. So she thundered on, her mind on nothing but the snow beneath her flints, the sky over her crown and the smell of hope in her nares.
