07-27-2018, 03:37 PM
Opheria is quiet in the Field, her soft breaths lost amidst the low thrum of chatter around her. She watches, as she always does, with ever curious eyes as horses are whisked away to and fro by others looking to further their own means, or their Kingom’s. She has always been intrigued by the comings and goings, and while she was native born, it had all seemed so odd. She could not deny that she had grown melancholy in her solitude, yet until now she had not been compelled to do anything to change her own circumstances. Like her mother before her, she had been content to simply be blown about by the wind, settling in one place for only a moment before being swept off to another. Such was the way of life for nomads like her.
She cannot place what it is but Opheria craves…..more. It is as if her world has been of black and white and while she has not seen the colors she craves them. She craves saturation in her very dry day to day. Who could fault her that?
She spies an approaching form and regards the white mare with a mixture of curiosity and relief. She has always hated dawdling, and the attention she feels it draws. Yet what else is one to do in this place? You’re either dawdling, or you’re recruiting, and the ivory dipped girl had nothing to recruit for. She smiles in friendly welcome, expression open and kind. She’d never been the rude sort, and was quick to try to set herself up for a positive interaction. Her ears flit forward, catching the short greeting offered forth. ”Good day.” she offers back, her voice soft but worn with disuse. ”I’m Opheria, and you are?”
.
She cannot place what it is but Opheria craves…..more. It is as if her world has been of black and white and while she has not seen the colors she craves them. She craves saturation in her very dry day to day. Who could fault her that?
She spies an approaching form and regards the white mare with a mixture of curiosity and relief. She has always hated dawdling, and the attention she feels it draws. Yet what else is one to do in this place? You’re either dawdling, or you’re recruiting, and the ivory dipped girl had nothing to recruit for. She smiles in friendly welcome, expression open and kind. She’d never been the rude sort, and was quick to try to set herself up for a positive interaction. Her ears flit forward, catching the short greeting offered forth. ”Good day.” she offers back, her voice soft but worn with disuse. ”I’m Opheria, and you are?”
.
opheria
now I really know what it feels like to fly