05-22-2015, 12:15 PM
He has long since grown used to the cold. His pale coat grows long and shaggy for most of the year, his massive wings thick with feathers and downy soft. That he has a tendency to spend much of his time in the sky, floating lazily along the icy currents as he monitors the ground far below has only increased his tolerance for the cold. Nonetheless, he remains impressed by those who dare these frigid climes for any length of time. He knows how harsh it can be, how much the frigid winters can sting.
Today is not so bad, considering that winter is fast approaching. The wind is still, allowing the occasional flake of snow to drift onto the ground untouched. Late summer grasses still struggle to persevere, even through the thin blanket of snow that is beginning to cover the earth. This is not what catches his attention however, as he drifts above, surveying the borders. No, it is the mare that walks below, passing through the wall of ice before pausing to nibble at the tough vegetation. She is as bold as brass, showing no apparent concern that she has intruded. She does not announce her presence to the brothers. In fact, she does not appear to have much of an agenda at all. The oddity of the situation hits him then, as he slowly descends from the heavens. He would have approached her regardless, but now he has even more reason to do so, if only to assuage his own curiosity.
He could have approached her unseen, but he does not. There is no reason to. Besides, he blends so perfectly with the landscape already that he hardly needs to become invisible to hide here. His pale coat matches the snow perfectly, except for the slightly darker dapples that grace his flanks and legs. He settles onto the ground a short distance from her with practiced ease, his feet hitting the earth with a soft thud. He tucks his wings neatly into his sides, the action making him suddenly less imposing. He is not a large stallion, nor is he small. He’s rather average, actually. Oh, he is handsome enough, but in this land of beautiful horses, even handsome enough is decidedly… average.
He watches her, dark eyes losing their hard glint as curiosity encroaches. His gaze moves from the tips of her hooves to the tips of her ears, inspecting her thoroughly, silently wondering what had brought her here. Only when he has seen everything that he can does he step forward, slowly circling her. His expression had turned from intense scrutiny to quiet admiration. She is a pretty little mare, and he is a man after all.
Finally he speaks, his voice a quiet rumble as his lips quirk in a hint of a smile.
What have we here?
He pauses for a moment, that hint of amusement sparking in his dark eyes. He has surmised that she is not here on a formal visit. And whatever her business here is, he has decided to make it his own. His next words are light, portraying no hint of reproach. Rather, they are curious, filled with more questions than the words themselves might ask.
Do you know that you are trespassing?
Today is not so bad, considering that winter is fast approaching. The wind is still, allowing the occasional flake of snow to drift onto the ground untouched. Late summer grasses still struggle to persevere, even through the thin blanket of snow that is beginning to cover the earth. This is not what catches his attention however, as he drifts above, surveying the borders. No, it is the mare that walks below, passing through the wall of ice before pausing to nibble at the tough vegetation. She is as bold as brass, showing no apparent concern that she has intruded. She does not announce her presence to the brothers. In fact, she does not appear to have much of an agenda at all. The oddity of the situation hits him then, as he slowly descends from the heavens. He would have approached her regardless, but now he has even more reason to do so, if only to assuage his own curiosity.
He could have approached her unseen, but he does not. There is no reason to. Besides, he blends so perfectly with the landscape already that he hardly needs to become invisible to hide here. His pale coat matches the snow perfectly, except for the slightly darker dapples that grace his flanks and legs. He settles onto the ground a short distance from her with practiced ease, his feet hitting the earth with a soft thud. He tucks his wings neatly into his sides, the action making him suddenly less imposing. He is not a large stallion, nor is he small. He’s rather average, actually. Oh, he is handsome enough, but in this land of beautiful horses, even handsome enough is decidedly… average.
He watches her, dark eyes losing their hard glint as curiosity encroaches. His gaze moves from the tips of her hooves to the tips of her ears, inspecting her thoroughly, silently wondering what had brought her here. Only when he has seen everything that he can does he step forward, slowly circling her. His expression had turned from intense scrutiny to quiet admiration. She is a pretty little mare, and he is a man after all.
Finally he speaks, his voice a quiet rumble as his lips quirk in a hint of a smile.
What have we here?
He pauses for a moment, that hint of amusement sparking in his dark eyes. He has surmised that she is not here on a formal visit. And whatever her business here is, he has decided to make it his own. His next words are light, portraying no hint of reproach. Rather, they are curious, filled with more questions than the words themselves might ask.
Do you know that you are trespassing?
There is never a day that goes by
that is a good day to die.
Hurricane