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Date Posted: 10:05:35 05/27/03 Tue
Author: Medusa
Subject: Returns
The now-mare trotted in, her ebon head held high. Black thorns swivel to catch the echos of voices, though her face is twisted with disdain. The sorrowful mush that was her parent's love life sickened her greatly, and only desperate lonliness could draw her back to her birthplace. Her tail lashes at her sides, the rainbow sheen over her ebon coat dulled out of its usual luster due to her mood. Her stark emerald eyes glared with contempt at the inhabitants, old and new.
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"Medusa." -- Deepest Desire, 02:27:44 05/29/03 Thu
It had been more an utterance to herself, not having spoken the name for what seemed like forever and she had almost not recognised the mare, and it was only after a second or two of contemplation had she managed to dig up the name to form on her lips. Hesitation coursed through her veins as she debated with herself on whether to say anything. Was it her 'duty' to do so? After an eternal battle with herself, she decided to wait quietly.
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Spots her old lead mare... -- Medusa, 15:21:11 05/30/03 Fri
... And even after visual recognition, she only offers a contemptable stare. She flairs her wings, her emerald eyes glimmering with a life of their own. With a prolonged sigh, the virulent mare wonders what brought her back here. There was nothing here of value to her.
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Brilliant mind. -- Deepest Desire, 03:30:46 06/02/03 Mon
A heavy sigh was all the response she could muster at that moment, for the mare could not think of the words that would let the other understand what she had been feeling, watching as time and a brilliant mind and led the winged equine to another place, setting a different stories and bending back hooks. No, it was not her place to speak of the loneliness that had resided in this territory, battered and worn on the inside, with only a thin coating of vibrance on the outside to hide away old wounds and past miseries.
[eh, all this stuff about 'coatings' has made me hungry for chocolate ;)]
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So quiet... -- Medusa, 11:52:05 06/06/03 Fri
... Yet silence is louder than words sometimes. And now, this silence crackled with palpable energy, mostly emitted from the rambunctious youth, whose coat flared with the seven colours of the very light itself. How odd that a mare so obviously dark and ebon-pelted be, at the same time, light and pure? Oh the irony.
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