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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> No lies here. -- Daigal, 11:31:10 04/13/03 Sun

A smile courses through him, his eyes warm as he lips the filly's ear affectionately. "Daddy stays," he confirms, silently daring his grandfather to deny this. His grandfather can rot for all he cares; he won't be taken from his family again. However... "Why don't you show daddy the way to the closet stream?" He asks his daughter with a grin. "I'm filling a bit dry."

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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> }{ leading the way }{ -- Sophonia, 13:46:09 04/13/03 Sun

}{ With a grin she starts off towards the stream that ran through the outskirts of the range of this mountain. [Jeez... I dunno what to write...] Starry pelt shimmers lightly in the late afternoon sun, and her seagreen eyes glance back often to make sure Daigal is all right. }{

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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> |{ no shining Star ever held more beauty than a single Life }| -- Leila, 18:04:57 04/13/03 Sun

Nodding, the filly indicated her understanding. Slender legs carry the small form in the direction of Sophonia. Legs dancing wildly along the twisted path, her crania turns to whicker to her father, acknowledging the way. Her pace breaks slightly into a brisk trot, mane whipping her neck.

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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Easy does it... -- Daigal, 19:38:57 04/13/03 Sun

For a moment he simply stands and watches the two females, the two loves and jewels of his life. He can't help but keep falling back onto that singular thought; he loves them, he had missed them, he's back to stay with them. However, thinking isn't going to help his poor, battered body, only action will, and so he slowly picks up a hoof and stumbles his way after them.

He hadn't realized how truly tired he is.

Every pebble and stick seem like another large obstacle just waiting to trip him, and his hooves feel like 2-ton rocks are tied to his legs. By the time he reaches the stream, his pelt is coated with sweat and his nares are flaring wildly in the effort to regain the air lost. Gingerly he steps closer to the water, bending his neck slowly and hoping that he won't lose his footing. Nevertheless, it's worth the trouble, he feels, when his lips connect with the water and the liquid slides down his throat. Perhaps this is what does him in, the pleasure in having such a relief as a cool drink. Because when he has had his fill, he is unable to move away. His exhaustion has finally pounced; now all he can do is stand by the stream, with his head lowered, and breathe.

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