06-18-2015, 11:40 AM
"Oh yes, I'm quite aware."
Wait... who was she talking to? Herself? It was certainly possible, but this voice was new, it belonged to a stranger. Skitz shot up her little dished head, with tendrils of her dreaded, mud-caked forelock bouncing up in the air and landing themselves back on her face with a small 'smack'. How did her hair get so wet? Ah well, too many things to ponder not enough time. For now, her attentions shifted to the equine standing nearby. She was so strangely and wonderfully colored, a fiery chestnut with glowing markings on her legs. And those eyes! How spectacular, Skitz had never met an equine with orange eyes before.
Azula AllaMalley. What a long name, why not just Azula? Azula was a pretty enough name no need to add anything behind it. Perhaps it was a family name or something, who knows. "Oh, me? I'm uh..." her eyes narrowed as the bay mare focused intently on the soil in front of her, racking her brain and searching for the answer. "Skitz! Yes, that's me, Skitz. My name is Skitz, quite a lovely name I think."
Don't be an idiot, she doesn't care about you. She'll leave you for dead in a minute, Skitz, you'll see.
She tilted her head a little bit, staring off into the distance now. It was only now that the breeze ran a shiver down her spine, sending a sharp cold right through her skin and touching her bones. Skitz didn't know if she was sweaty or wet, but it scarcely mattered. Because now, Skitz was imagining the cold reaching out and touching her. She could see the cold as an entity, a form as you will, not any shape in particular, just a misty figure, like a shadow that sucked the life out of everything around it. She imagined that figure reaching out with spindly fingers, as if an arm reaching out from beneath a cloak, and reaching out to touch her insides, to feel around and freeze her soul.
"No!" Skitz looked back to Azula AllaMalley, putting on another huge smile as if nothing had happened. A few moments passed by and Skitz sort of felt like she should say something, but she wasn't entirely sure at all as to what she should say. Name? Had she already said her name? The mare wasn't entirely sure, she wasn't too good at having conversations, she had never gotten much practice. Most equines either made fun of her or simply left, though she never understood why. What could be so bad about her that nobody was able to stick around? She had always tried to be nice... "My name is Skitz, by the way."
words: 451
notes: i'm still getting the feel for her, please ignore my weird writing.
Wait... who was she talking to? Herself? It was certainly possible, but this voice was new, it belonged to a stranger. Skitz shot up her little dished head, with tendrils of her dreaded, mud-caked forelock bouncing up in the air and landing themselves back on her face with a small 'smack'. How did her hair get so wet? Ah well, too many things to ponder not enough time. For now, her attentions shifted to the equine standing nearby. She was so strangely and wonderfully colored, a fiery chestnut with glowing markings on her legs. And those eyes! How spectacular, Skitz had never met an equine with orange eyes before.
Azula AllaMalley. What a long name, why not just Azula? Azula was a pretty enough name no need to add anything behind it. Perhaps it was a family name or something, who knows. "Oh, me? I'm uh..." her eyes narrowed as the bay mare focused intently on the soil in front of her, racking her brain and searching for the answer. "Skitz! Yes, that's me, Skitz. My name is Skitz, quite a lovely name I think."
Don't be an idiot, she doesn't care about you. She'll leave you for dead in a minute, Skitz, you'll see.
She tilted her head a little bit, staring off into the distance now. It was only now that the breeze ran a shiver down her spine, sending a sharp cold right through her skin and touching her bones. Skitz didn't know if she was sweaty or wet, but it scarcely mattered. Because now, Skitz was imagining the cold reaching out and touching her. She could see the cold as an entity, a form as you will, not any shape in particular, just a misty figure, like a shadow that sucked the life out of everything around it. She imagined that figure reaching out with spindly fingers, as if an arm reaching out from beneath a cloak, and reaching out to touch her insides, to feel around and freeze her soul.
"No!" Skitz looked back to Azula AllaMalley, putting on another huge smile as if nothing had happened. A few moments passed by and Skitz sort of felt like she should say something, but she wasn't entirely sure at all as to what she should say. Name? Had she already said her name? The mare wasn't entirely sure, she wasn't too good at having conversations, she had never gotten much practice. Most equines either made fun of her or simply left, though she never understood why. What could be so bad about her that nobody was able to stick around? She had always tried to be nice... "My name is Skitz, by the way."
words: 451
notes: i'm still getting the feel for her, please ignore my weird writing.