...winds blow 'cross the desert sands... -- Papillon Lagoon

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Date Posted: 09:22:30 08/15/03 Fri
Author: Pharaoh's Daughter
Subject: ...winds blow 'cross the desert sands...
In reply to: Final Frontier 's message, "\the last wild/" on 15:58:48 08/13/03 Wed

Child of the desert stands lone upon a hill above, the wind running cool fingers through her silken tresses, caressing them, making them ripple and dance like frothy rapids of a snowy waterfall on her graceful crest. She is motionless, standing on slender snow-minted legs, long banner of silken strands fanning with the wind, a frothy glory dancing in the breeze, the sun touching her sleek hide and shining off of it in a crystal white brilliance. Exquisitely chiseled face is dished beautifully, tapering to a tiny, coal-hued teacup muzzle, where velvety nostrils flare wide, quivering as she tips gorgeous head up toward the sky and drinks the wind, closing her dark, fiery eyes in pleasure. The wind, her only solace, comfort and friend. The wind, her only consolation. The wind was a life to her, the only thing she had left, save the desert. Alas, the desert! Her home, her world. A world of glittering white sands and blistering heat. A world of harsh beauty, and wild spirit. A world of stars and sun, burning heat by day and frostbitten cold by night. Her world. Her home. Her place. The desert had swept her up in its arms, the only child it would ever have. To all others, it was hostile and deadly. Only she was welcomed to its wonder. Born to a dead mother, the desert had been her mother, and her father. For her father had forsaken her, and her brothers? her sisters? They'd driven her away. She'd become a wild thing, a child; a Daughter; a spirit of the desert. The diamond Heart of the Desert. Never to be tamed. And so the ones to have the privelege of family to her had lost that privelege, and she had lived alone, with the sun, sky, wind, stars, and sands. They would never leave her. But when, oh when, could she return? Something drove her, drove her, a hunger deep in herself to find something-but what was it? She knew not, and could not return to her home till she found what it was.

Daughter of the Desert lifts her lashes, dark pools holding that desert fire and spirit alighting on a gathering of equines below. Should she join them? The wind rustles through her frothy locks, giving her a slight shove. Laughing softly, she kicks up her heels and whirls down the hill, diamond pistons seeming not to touch the ground in her fluid, effortless speed and grace, frothy streams flowing, swirling out behind her in silken snowy rivers, banner flagging and flying. There is a carefree, wild beauty, and untested, unfathomed swiftness to her gait, that shows not only is she a desert child, but one of the winds. Gifted with incredible fleetness not granted to many, she seems a phantom, a phantom spirit of gorgeous beauty and desert wildness, a daughter of the desert. The only daughter of the desert. Slowing easily to a graceful halt, she stops near enough, but far enough from the group, a swan ready to take flight.

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Replies:

-Distraction- -- REM, 15:13:39 08/15/03 Fri
- .:.winds blow 'cross the desert sands.:. -- Pharaoh's Daughter, 17:07:44 08/16/03 Sat
  - -Smile- -- REM, 07:38:56 08/17/03 Sun
    - \the last wild/ -- Final Frontier, 20:10:14 08/21/03 Thu
      - -Content- -- REM, 09:10:14 08/23/03 Sat
        \the last wild/ -- Final Frontier, 09:50:18 08/23/03 Sat
        .:.winds blow 'cross the desert sands.:. -- Pharaoh's Daughter, 18:15:51 09/04/03 Thu