03-29-2018, 05:10 PM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
He finds himself at the bank of the crystalline lake, his ivory nose hovering carefully above the quietly lapping waters that dampen his hooves, the wet and compacted sand giving way beneath his weight. The springtime wind is lush and gentle, twirling the blue and starkly white of his mane and tail within its cool fingers, playing with the red and black feather that lies curiously behind a single ear, entangled within his mane since his birth.
The water is completely clear and barely moving, save for the gentle ripples that the spring wind causes across its surface - otherwise, the stallion is staring into glass. He lifts a single foreleg, white and bright with the green mountainous backdrop behind him, and paws curiously at the shallow water’s edge, turning up little smooth pebbles with his hoof. Once out of the water, he lowers his muzzle to examine them, sniffing at them curiously. He glances upwards with a tilt of his head, the mixture of white and blue cascading over one of his curious and even-bluer eyes as he stares out at the wide lake. Winter has only just waned, and though the air around him is warm and inviting, he wonders if the lake is ready for his first swim since the end of summer.
With a splash (because why hesitate), Svedka throws himself with a single leap into the depths of the familiar lake. His gold and white painted skin shivers as the water rushes up to meet him, lapping gently at his shoulders and haunches. It is cold, frigid even, but there is a breathless smile on his face anyways. He takes a large inhale of breath, and ducks his head completely beneath the cold waters.
Cherry blossoms float lazily in the spring wind, spinning and twirling from the higher parts of the mountains and landing on the surface of the unwavering lake, dotting it with pinks and reds. Svedka emerges from the waters, the blossoms splitting away from thebroadness of his chest as he moves forward from the deeper parts into the shallows, lipping at the flowers with ivory lips curiously and then drinking deeply. His blue and white mane lay plastered against his neck, his forelock dripping with the sweet water of the lake.
Svedka pulls himself from the lake, a few blossoms sticking to the broad of his back and withers, while some lay entangled in his mane and tail. He stands on the sandy shoreline, water cascading down his legs in rivulets and pooling beneath his hooves before flowing back into the waters from whence it came. He had come up to his large weeping willow tree that cascades its branches into the water, large and leaning with bright green tendrils. He lifts his nose and closes his eyes, allowing the warmth of the sun to begin to dry his cold flesh.
With a content sigh he moves closer to the trunk of the large tree, its branches brushing against his back as they drape carefully around him - though it is hard to hide the intense white and gold of his body, as well as the navy that streaks through his mane and tail.
The water is completely clear and barely moving, save for the gentle ripples that the spring wind causes across its surface - otherwise, the stallion is staring into glass. He lifts a single foreleg, white and bright with the green mountainous backdrop behind him, and paws curiously at the shallow water’s edge, turning up little smooth pebbles with his hoof. Once out of the water, he lowers his muzzle to examine them, sniffing at them curiously. He glances upwards with a tilt of his head, the mixture of white and blue cascading over one of his curious and even-bluer eyes as he stares out at the wide lake. Winter has only just waned, and though the air around him is warm and inviting, he wonders if the lake is ready for his first swim since the end of summer.
With a splash (because why hesitate), Svedka throws himself with a single leap into the depths of the familiar lake. His gold and white painted skin shivers as the water rushes up to meet him, lapping gently at his shoulders and haunches. It is cold, frigid even, but there is a breathless smile on his face anyways. He takes a large inhale of breath, and ducks his head completely beneath the cold waters.
Cherry blossoms float lazily in the spring wind, spinning and twirling from the higher parts of the mountains and landing on the surface of the unwavering lake, dotting it with pinks and reds. Svedka emerges from the waters, the blossoms splitting away from thebroadness of his chest as he moves forward from the deeper parts into the shallows, lipping at the flowers with ivory lips curiously and then drinking deeply. His blue and white mane lay plastered against his neck, his forelock dripping with the sweet water of the lake.
Svedka pulls himself from the lake, a few blossoms sticking to the broad of his back and withers, while some lay entangled in his mane and tail. He stands on the sandy shoreline, water cascading down his legs in rivulets and pooling beneath his hooves before flowing back into the waters from whence it came. He had come up to his large weeping willow tree that cascades its branches into the water, large and leaning with bright green tendrils. He lifts his nose and closes his eyes, allowing the warmth of the sun to begin to dry his cold flesh.
With a content sigh he moves closer to the trunk of the large tree, its branches brushing against his back as they drape carefully around him - though it is hard to hide the intense white and gold of his body, as well as the navy that streaks through his mane and tail.
(be my escape)
Svedka
@[Kagerus]