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Date Posted: 06:17:06 02/16/02 Sat
Author: Sunrise Spirit
Subject: Boredum

Femme was not usal self today, she was not bursting with humor and energy, pitiful look is on face as she silentley watches the challenge that tis going on over on the other side of the field. Dull snort is emmitted, visage hangs low, dial is tossed, crest is bowed down. Daggers paw the cold earth. Femme feels empty, not in hunger, but in energy, femme felt cold and sick, weary, I-Have-To-Ly-Down. she thinks to herself, the femme scrapes a clear patch in the snow under a tree and lats down, resting, eyelids droop close.



There Is No Suprise

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[> /*\ Questioning /*\ -- Dancing Jem, 06:39:23 02/16/02 Sat

Mare wonders close, muzzle extended in question. She halts some paces away, head tilted as she attempts to work out what is wrong, and whether the other shall chase her away.

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[> [> There Is No Suprise -- Sunrise Spirit, 07:26:31 02/18/02 Mon

Nor is there any sunrise ...

The femme looks up from her position at the other. To weak to protest, she goes back to lying still.

The femora shivers in spite of cold and snuffels, she lay still, her life drained, Only My Spirit Will Stay...

She is mereley a part of the wind, her body shall move no more.




sometimes Suprises are Not Good

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[> [> [> /*\ Recoil /*\ -- Dancing Jem, 11:18:29 02/18/02 Mon

The mare recoils, mouth agape and chewing wildly as though tasting something odd. A smell ... yet not a smell, just an instinct ... she has never experianced it before, but she knows what it is. Death She backs up hurridly, eyes rolling. She shakes her head once, twice, uncertain, then turns and bolts back to the herd, panic-striken. She does not understand death. And it scares her.

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[> [> [> Darts -- Midnight Majesty, 12:28:50 02/18/02 Mon

Looks down 'pon the v'xen, that just moments ago had been filled with suprises. She rears sticted with panic, she darts in and out of trees, making her way to Bronco II, she rears in front of him and neighs.



Somthing's Gone Wrong, I sense DEATH
Is what her shrieks sound of.

'Tis Not very Majestic

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[> [> [> [> .: Comfort :. -- Naranja, 13:00:15 02/18/02 Mon

The filly can at times be spiteful, but she senses her half-sisters panic and moves to comfort her, running her muzzle over Dancing Jem's quivering side. The smell of death invades her nostrils also, and she shivers, uncertain.

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[> [> [> Raider breaks from her arguement... -- Raider, 02:36:52 02/19/02 Tue

A death is more importiant than a fight.
She approaches the body carefully, not sure of what the mare had died from. She bows her head in respect for the one who had stayed so short a time. She has seen death before, but hopes not to see it again within the herd.
She turns away, calling to the other mares in a sorrowful voice, telling them not to be scared.

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[> [> [> [> /*\ Back /*\ -- Dancing Jem, 10:22:41 02/19/02 Tue

She will not approach. Death is a bad thing. Scary. Unknown. She backs up again with a snort, oblivious to her younger siblings presence.

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[> [> [> [> 'Tis Not Majestic -- Midnight Majesty, 17:31:43 02/21/02 Thu

Mimicing Raiders moves. Milky white tears stream from v'xens orbs

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