i was born in the arms of imaginary friends,
free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
The shock of her black coat against the black of the setting sun reflects a shadow much like the palomino youth's and judging by the rickety but stealthy juts does Mari determine to to be her little sister, sweet Lissy (as she liked to call her when she was younger). Mari pretends to not notice and faces away, suddenly entranced with a drunken floating butterfly.
The audible 'rawr!' catches her anticipated lobes but the mare-child jumps out of sheer thrill to entertain her little sister. "Lieschel!" Maribel pretends to scold, features furrowed and lips pursed before the storminess of her facade roll off like thunder clouds clearing after a storm. "Little sister, you have startled me!" The honey muzzle dips to nuzzle the ebony cheek, blowing warm air against her forelock and giving it a little tug. "Where is mama and daddy?" Though Maribel is a year and half, she still prefers to call her parents the name she had given them when they had first brought the buttermilk bundle home. Pale blue eyes look from beneath the shock of platinum tresses as she watches the little girl with a soft, warm smile.
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@[Lieschel]