| Subject: She runs quickly, ears slowly pricking forward, and a smile appearing upon her lips for the first time in a long while... |
Author:
Cobweb
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Date Posted: 16:59:42 01/17/02 Thu
Author Host/IP: mkc-163-145-145.kc.rr.com/24.163.145.145
In reply to:
Black Death
's message, "He tosses his head..." on 07:47:42 01/17/02 Thu
She watches the others, and closes her eyes briefly as she inhales deeply with satisfaction. This was soothing...yet...something more. Something she had not felt much, for she had not played much as a foal. The only time she had was when she'd met Dusk, but she was not thinking of that now. All that was so wonderful seemed also so new to her. Her dark eyes fly open, alight with something different- not her usual brooding eyes, nor her fiery eyes of anger, either. At Death's playful buck, acting much the colt for a stallion so noble, she couldn't help but laugh, even if it was only softly. As soon as she realizes this, though, her ears flick back, almost allowing herself to be angry at her own actions, but she decides against it and her ears once more prick forward, tips reaching for both Gangsta and Death. She digs in deeper, her short and stocky, yet wonderfully feminine and elegant legs pound faster and faster, harder and harder, dirt clods flying behind. She dips her neck, allowing for more speed, until she appears to the unmoving to be more of a ghostly spirit covering much ground, with her blurred pale coat and her dark, ever-speeding legs blending in with the desolate background.
When she sees Gangsta headed towards the oak, an ear flicks back with question, and she opens her mouth to call to him. The resounding thud, though, hits her ears before she has a chance, and something tells her this is not like it was moments ago with the thorn bush... She lifts her head, her eyes now filled with the frantic need to know, before she ducks her head again, ears going flat against her skull, and eyes still filled with concern. He's done it again. Why, oh why, did we let ourselves get so careless? We ought to have known better...only bad can come of such things. She nears, skidding to an abrupt and anxious halt, eyes locked on the unconcious stallion. Slowly, she looks up at Death, her eyes reflecting his own concerns. "Shall I...shall I go get The Healer? He's..." She says no more, dipping her head cautiously near to his face, feeling for the warm breath that might signify life, then glides her head over his chest to make certain her ears could pick up the faint sound of his heartbeat.
She lifts her head slowly, nodding slightly, "He's alive, for all that counts. At least he's not..." Again, her words are stopped before they are said, and she flicks an ear towards Death before, once again slowly, turning her head to catch sight of his regal face, wrought with the concerns she too held in her heart.
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