05-21-2016, 08:06 PM
@[Brynmor] - Here's where I'll start up a new thread. 
With her having gotten older, she's a bit different.)
She had grown to have reached her mid-prime, at eight years old. She had yet to foal a single child of her own, and she longed to very much. It was tempting to try and seduce in a Tundra stallion who did not yet have their own lover, yet she kept her lust for herself and under control. It was a silly, thought, anyways. She had spent a large amount of time with Brynmor, yet did not feel as if they would love each other in the future.
"You could be the greatest, you could be the best. You could be the King Kong, bangin' on your chest. You could beat the world, you could beat the war.."
Her once-deep slate coat had greyed out and now her dun stripes and shoulder line seemed pitch-black. Her mane was getting lighter streaks to it, and was no longer a solid light-black tone.
"Brynmor?" She calls weakly in the growing dusk, as it had started to shorten the lightness and grow out it's dark winter schedule once again. It seemed timeless here, the icy Tundra hiding her inhabitants from the outside world. Interesting news still trickled in here and there, but not as often or as dramatically as it would if in, say, the Valley or the Field.
"..You could talk to God, go banging on his door.. You could throw your hands up, you could beat the clock. You could move mountains, you could break rocks. You could be a master.."
She felt every second of the hours pass faster, and she felt the cold hit her joints a little bit harder each winter. She was not bred for this. But she would not permit herself to perish within these icy walls. She did, indeed, leave the Tundra's borders to mingle occasionally, say, once or twice a year. But few times was it truly to track down family or friends.
With her having gotten older, she's a bit different.)She had grown to have reached her mid-prime, at eight years old. She had yet to foal a single child of her own, and she longed to very much. It was tempting to try and seduce in a Tundra stallion who did not yet have their own lover, yet she kept her lust for herself and under control. It was a silly, thought, anyways. She had spent a large amount of time with Brynmor, yet did not feel as if they would love each other in the future.
"You could be the greatest, you could be the best. You could be the King Kong, bangin' on your chest. You could beat the world, you could beat the war.."
Her once-deep slate coat had greyed out and now her dun stripes and shoulder line seemed pitch-black. Her mane was getting lighter streaks to it, and was no longer a solid light-black tone.
"Brynmor?" She calls weakly in the growing dusk, as it had started to shorten the lightness and grow out it's dark winter schedule once again. It seemed timeless here, the icy Tundra hiding her inhabitants from the outside world. Interesting news still trickled in here and there, but not as often or as dramatically as it would if in, say, the Valley or the Field.
"..You could talk to God, go banging on his door.. You could throw your hands up, you could beat the clock. You could move mountains, you could break rocks. You could be a master.."
She felt every second of the hours pass faster, and she felt the cold hit her joints a little bit harder each winter. She was not bred for this. But she would not permit herself to perish within these icy walls. She did, indeed, leave the Tundra's borders to mingle occasionally, say, once or twice a year. But few times was it truly to track down family or friends.