| Subject: ^upon silent wings^ |
Author:
Resaelis
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Date Posted: Tuesday, July 15, 01:49:43pm
In reply to:
riverline
's message, "cry of the swift river" on Monday, July 14, 01:09:39pm
^the ebony steed looks at the lead mare, standing there kind and proud. his own childhood, before SA, was harsh and cruel, shaping him to his persona before he was old enough to speak. cool black eyes stare out of his charcoal black face, their endless depths unreadable. he shrugged at the apoligizing mare, showing his indifference. the mare had not offended him. his dial swivels to face the lead, speaking in a quiet tone^ I was the way I am now when I was but a babe. I came to Satan's Angel when I was a yearling, a stoic and solemn colt that spoke fully competent sentences. She took me in and loved me, and I loved her in return. But we were not together constantly, her duties pulling her away from me. And so, in essence, I suppose I raised myself. And perhaps I raised myself to be curt and cold. ^he pauses. he was being disrespectful and he knew it, but was unable to stop^ I do not wish to leave, but if you command it, I cannot say otherwise. You are the lead mare, I am not lead stallion nor lead of anything. ^he lowers his head, awaiting banishment, chastising, or whatever would come of his truthful, though insolent, speech^
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