10-06-2018, 02:26 AM
Naivety shed, Peregrine Jude slinks through the field. Her eyes are sparkling and curious as they settle on each supple green blade of grass. No longer a fool (or at least so she thought), the sensuous girl swings her hips around and flutters her wings surreptitiously. She exudes confidence and secrecy, each insatiable flicker of her eyes begging for someone to ask her questions, to steal her away.
Jude passes over the luscious ground, each small hoof hardly making a noise. Her graceful and tiny body hardly makes waves in a land so full of incredible creatures, but the girl was determined to force her way to the top. She lusts for intensity, to know each and every thought in each and every horse’s mind. Jude cannot be stopped - her mind always whipping away to the next unsuspecting stranger. She would pick apart this land, and all of its inhabitants.
Beneath that first acute intoxication, Jude is desperate - desperate to be held, felt, understood. She would never tell you; she could not even admit this to herself.
She is already bored. Jude huffs, blowing her thick lilac curls away from her eyes. The pale girl desires to draw someone to her side, to hypnotize them with her unstoppable gaze. She wants to prove herself as a force, to seduce, to destroy (or, perhaps, she wants to feel something other than undying boredom - must she destroy?).
Jude rolls her eyes. She does something she is constantly telling herself not to do: waits.
Jude passes over the luscious ground, each small hoof hardly making a noise. Her graceful and tiny body hardly makes waves in a land so full of incredible creatures, but the girl was determined to force her way to the top. She lusts for intensity, to know each and every thought in each and every horse’s mind. Jude cannot be stopped - her mind always whipping away to the next unsuspecting stranger. She would pick apart this land, and all of its inhabitants.
Beneath that first acute intoxication, Jude is desperate - desperate to be held, felt, understood. She would never tell you; she could not even admit this to herself.
She is already bored. Jude huffs, blowing her thick lilac curls away from her eyes. The pale girl desires to draw someone to her side, to hypnotize them with her unstoppable gaze. She wants to prove herself as a force, to seduce, to destroy (or, perhaps, she wants to feel something other than undying boredom - must she destroy?).
Jude rolls her eyes. She does something she is constantly telling herself not to do: waits.