Llama
newborn
Mama's Lover[M0n:915]
Posts: 5
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Post by Llama on Aug 11, 2012 23:00:20 GMT -6
[th][cs=3][rs=3][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500] [bg=darkslategray]Aedias
Warrior born, warrior raised.
The canyon was a fine place. It was well sheltered, and the river ran fast and clean through it. Overall, it was a nice place to be, and it was a nice day overall. Aedias looked up at the clear blue sky and she sat on the riverbank, looking quite content while her hooves dangled into the river. The water was cold, but refreshing, and it was perfectly peaceful sitting there.
Aedias laid on her back, whistling a tune as she watched a bird soar above. What would it be like to have wings, she wondered? To be that much more free? It would certainly help in a fight, that was for sure. But, there had to be something beyond that. What would it feel like if she could race the wind? Fly higher than the birds? The Euthean wondered if she would ever have an answer to these questions. It was fairly improbable. She raised one furry leg from the river and examined it for a minute, then yawned and let it splash back into the river. Perhaps she was just a beast that was not meant to fly. Ah well, the land wasn't too bad. There were always those brief moments of being airborne during particularly large leaps, right? Aedias sat up, then got to her feet- or hooves, rather- and shook the water off of the coat that extended from her waist downwards. Her race was somewhat of anomaly. The lower half was like a horse, but the upper half was almost human-like, though the coloring was the same on both her coat and her skin.
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Post by .kimuntran! on Aug 12, 2012 13:47:15 GMT -6
roane sellia
it was just one of those days. One where Roane was in a seething mood and nothing anyone could do or say would fix that. She stormed from her clans home to rage through the lands of Euthea; finding herself in the canyon she quieted down to let nature be. It had done nothing to deserve her violent rage and she felt wrong dishing it out on nature - this did not mean she calmed down. She simply bottled it up for a few minutes.
Sometimes the river was strong and dangerous, sometimes it was slow and gentle. Each bend in the river was a startling and new surprise to Euthea Canyon and it was one of the few bodies of water that Roane went to when she wanted to be herself and be by herself. It was one of the few things that could sooth her - usually.
She stepped with solid hooves into the gentle, rolling waters, her long silver tail swirling behind her as it caught on the gentle current and pulled down stream away from her blue-roan lower body. She was one of the rare mares to have skin the tone of flesh - the tone of the palomino that had birthed her, even, instead of the same tone as the flesh beneath her equine hide. She stared at her distorted reflection, snarling at the scars that cut across her face.
Typically they were her proudest feature but today they were her curse. They were the things that brought hateful comments from her counterparts to her face and they were the cause of her grief. Taking it out on the water would do nothing but make her exhausted - she did it anyway.
Ah - she was not alone, however. A soft whistle crawled down the river towards her and she jerked her black-haired head and dimpled chin up towards the sound, twitching her uncharacteristically long ears. Gold hoops and cases wrapped around her pointed ears, chains dangling from them as they moved, little gold beads tangling in her hair and pulling back free. It was something she was proud of. Her one and only sign of impurity (so says her clan) and something they could never make her un-proud of. She snarled to herself and waded up the gentle river, hunting the source of the whistling.
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