08-26-2017, 07:28 PM
Heda
It isn't often that she is drawn into the den, for in fact this was once her home ever so long ago, and although being here in her childhood did bring her great sorrows, as she was forgotten just like the many children whom find themselves here. She can't help herself, as if a singular thread within her mind was snagged, caught upon something, or perhaps someone.
Her gaze flickers about curiously, as she enters the silent atmosphere, where only her own footsteps could be heard through the den. To her surprise, and relief children were scarce around here, she was glad to know at least parents had taken the responsibility to care for their children, but eventually something catches her eye.
The smallest movement of something silver, and as she nears she realizes, that that something was a petite boy, probably only a couple days of age. He lay dormant, head bowed as if he were dozing off, but his poor mind was wide awake. She could sense his feelings, of being lost, yet still determined, and as she came closer she couldn't help herself. Gingerly, she projected the smallest hint of joy on him in a hope to boost his spirits.
Her golden cranium lowers, as she stands before him, navy whisps of mane filtering down her neck, as she peers down at him. Nostrils gently flaring, and intaking his sent as she gently brushed her blue velvet muzzle against his side, as if to say "Come on up.". Her feathered appendages fitter at her sides, as faint maternal instincts press against her mind. "Hello there. Where is your mother little one?" She coos, with honey dipped words. Hazel gaze honed in upon him, as she felt the smallest hint of pity finding it's way into her heart.
He was just like her, at that age lost and alone, yet ever so determined to find someone, to find a family. Her heart feels for him, and she yearns to help, her muzzle still remaining close to him, and gently lipping at his withers in a hesitant affection towards the colt. "I'm Heda, would you care to share a name?" She murmurs, her tail whisking at her hocks.
Her gaze flickers about curiously, as she enters the silent atmosphere, where only her own footsteps could be heard through the den. To her surprise, and relief children were scarce around here, she was glad to know at least parents had taken the responsibility to care for their children, but eventually something catches her eye.
The smallest movement of something silver, and as she nears she realizes, that that something was a petite boy, probably only a couple days of age. He lay dormant, head bowed as if he were dozing off, but his poor mind was wide awake. She could sense his feelings, of being lost, yet still determined, and as she came closer she couldn't help herself. Gingerly, she projected the smallest hint of joy on him in a hope to boost his spirits.
Her golden cranium lowers, as she stands before him, navy whisps of mane filtering down her neck, as she peers down at him. Nostrils gently flaring, and intaking his sent as she gently brushed her blue velvet muzzle against his side, as if to say "Come on up.". Her feathered appendages fitter at her sides, as faint maternal instincts press against her mind. "Hello there. Where is your mother little one?" She coos, with honey dipped words. Hazel gaze honed in upon him, as she felt the smallest hint of pity finding it's way into her heart.
He was just like her, at that age lost and alone, yet ever so determined to find someone, to find a family. Her heart feels for him, and she yearns to help, her muzzle still remaining close to him, and gently lipping at his withers in a hesitant affection towards the colt. "I'm Heda, would you care to share a name?" She murmurs, her tail whisking at her hocks.
Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
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@[Ravan] I hope she isn't too forward, but she is the motherly type. <3
![[Image: dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147...1Y8jmwEofM]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/07886fb6-93e3-433a-98d3-b27bd42023e6/dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147d99a.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzA3ODg2ZmI2LTkzZTMtNDMzYS05OGQzLWIyN2JkNDIwMjNlNlwvZGM5YjVwZC1kYTIyNGY5Yi00MDYyLTRhYzgtOTI0Zi00ZGQyNjE0N2Q5OWEuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.geTcHHU6VYVUl2A4eZOJJP7O2w_nw1yix1Y8jmwEofM)
Ex-Queen of Loess