05-25-2018, 10:55 PM
Fireflies float and glow in the eerie silence of the Taigan night. They bounce between the trees and light up the early summer night like lanterns. The pale phantom stands on the edge of a babbling brook, the water passing gently over and through smooth stones that clack quietly beneath his hooves as the stallion stomps upon them gently to remove packed on mud. The moon passes over the forest and leaves swathes of milky mud exposed to his glinting eyes. The brook itself is the only other light in the woods next to the moon herself. The liquid seems to morph and glow a soft blue from within. It reflects in muted hues against the creme of Tymber's coat and changes the dusty brown of his forelegs and face to a soft gray. Curved ears dip forward to listen to the quiet tune of the night time.
The man is new to Beqanna, but knows enough to not be frightened by his solitude in the redwood forest. It is a sanctuary to ghosts and travelers such as he. A graveyard for stories and monarchs like his father.
Silver streaks tinged in brown fall into crystal hues as the stallion turns his bodice away from the water to face the forest once more. He cant quite remember how he got here, but he knows that he doesnt wish to leave. Maybe others would come and join him within these lonely trees, or perhaps the passing prince would find peace all alone.
The man is new to Beqanna, but knows enough to not be frightened by his solitude in the redwood forest. It is a sanctuary to ghosts and travelers such as he. A graveyard for stories and monarchs like his father.
Silver streaks tinged in brown fall into crystal hues as the stallion turns his bodice away from the water to face the forest once more. He cant quite remember how he got here, but he knows that he doesnt wish to leave. Maybe others would come and join him within these lonely trees, or perhaps the passing prince would find peace all alone.