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Date Posted: 16:50:26 11/10/02 Sun
Author: Fayz
Subject: I blush because I don't know what to say.
In reply to: Reza 's message, "*Painted Steed*" on 13:01:12 11/10/02 Sun


She laughs, her eyes sparked with an interest, a flare of personality. She pivots 'round a single delicate ped, tossing her silken visage haphazardly to the other side of her neck. She smirks, suppresing her brazen attitude. -Surely you jest, my fine steed, for we have but met.- She steps forward, touching his shoulder tenderly. -Yet, with time, the feeling could be mutual.- Odd was it that she gave such kind words, for she often dealt those much harsher, much more deliberate. What she said was vague, but promising.


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Replies:

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Up. -- Fayz, 09:55:10 11/12/02 Tue


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Painted One* -- Reza, 17:35:56 11/12/02 Tue

*Sweetish nicker* Yes...in time...


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Trust is a building block of love -- Fayz, 10:09:15 11/13/02 Wed


She nods, dipping her head once more to the frugal grass. Allowing herself a few bites, she yawns expressively. She folds her slender ivory legs, lowering her moon-kissed barrel to the ground to sleep. Trusting the painted one to watch o'er her, she rests.


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Arabic roots mean little.* -- Reza, 12:58:50 11/13/02 Wed

*Lays a few feet away, in the midst of a thick patch of soft grass. He allows his dark eyes to shut, but his perked ears remain alert...listening...*


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Sleeping -- Fayz, 15:42:16 11/14/02 Thu


Her ears swivel to rest on him, and her mind is also very alert, though it doesn't show. After she feels herself rested enough, she rises shaking the deadened grass from her mane. -What shall we do?- she asks, her plush muzzle snaking t'wards him.


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Painted Muzzle lifts to greet hers* -- Reza, 19:18:40 11/14/02 Thu

*Youthful stallion arches neck and tail reaches upwards like any Arabian's* Want to run?


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Sure, why not. -- Fayz, 19:34:26 11/15/02 Fri


She looks thoughtful, when a sly grin creeps 'cross her face. She takes off, her chisled head held high, her tail a white banner in the wind. -Slowpoke!-


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Cocks head and snorts (semi-sarchastically)* Who ya callin' slowpoke? -- Reza, 14:32:45 11/20/02 Wed

*His hooves grip the turf beneath him and he springs forward, his head reaching out in front of him. He has entered a gallop, his muscles ripple underneath his painted pelt as he lengthens each stride*


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Hot stuff -- Fayz, 16:39:50 11/24/02 Sun


She gallops on, her chisled head held high, her gait full of suspension. Daggar-nail rip through the terrain with a flinty property.


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Gallop as he may* -- Skip, 15:43:57 11/27/02 Wed

*His hoofbeats match a rythm of the mare alongside him, and he bugles his whinny out to the sunset and his tail flies past him like a banner.*


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> (oopsies i posted as my other horsey) -- Reza, 19:13:23 11/27/02 Wed


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Slows -- Fayz, 20:13:53 11/27/02 Wed


She slows a bit, tossing her head around as if she were being reigned back by a rider. Skidding to a halt, the ivory feminita wheels around on her hind legs, her silken tresses flying b'hind her like beautiful whisps of fog that follow her very being. Lippids grace the grass with a gentle kiss, as she snatches a few lone strands before galloping away once more.


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Strides lengthen* -- Reza, 08:18:32 11/29/02 Fri

*His strides pull further apart, and faster.*


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Stops -- Fayz, 11:04:24 11/29/02 Fri


She halts, her diamon-bright eyes watching his powrful form race by. She snorts tiredly, it was a good run.


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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Breathe* -- Reza, 11:30:12 12/01/02 Sun

*His breathing is heavy, and he halts beside her, bobbing his head in agreement.* It was a good run...


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