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Subject: ¤entereth¤ Author: Charring [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 13:23:01 05/11/02 Sat Author Host/IP: 64.12.104.49 A femme of fiery hue and temperament, swift as a prarie fire 'cross the plains, and quick to strike like lightning. And always, the result of her strikes are fire. A true name, now she has, and not one the opposite of the element which best describes her. Always she has wanted such a thing; never has she thought to re-name herself. Now, however, that another has done such a thing, she resents it. And still, she obediently turns to the steed, a question in her gaze: which way? [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

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[> Subject: ][ nerezza ][ Author: Detruisent [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 14:00:25 05/11/02 Sat Author Host/IP: 64.12.103.168 He motions her off the path, taking a grown-over way through the forest, with briars tugging at their limbs and choking out all free motion. They head this way until coming to a cliff, of narrow ledge, that overlooks an unpleasant wasteland. "'Tis your new home!" An auditive settles on another steed within the valley, his heart skips in hoping 'twas Stovati. Either way, no mention of his thoughts or hints within the oculars. The ledge on which they stood offered no way into Nerezza, so Detruisent turned them back through the trees. They never reached the main path again, only going about through a sea of briars until coming to a dreadful-looking rocky slope. Obviously he wanted her to walk down it, half-hoping the loose rocks would trip her or beat her up in some way, to save him the trouble of doing so -- if she had intentions of causing him any trouble, for she had been awefuly quiet the whole way here. Chelle = Trui's player = likes to babble. :) [ Post a Reply to This Message ]

[> [> Subject: ¤goes¤ Author: Charring [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 14:11:14 05/11/02 Sat Author Host/IP: 64.12.104.49 A trickly course, this, btu she will manage. With the grace and ease of her Arabic ancestors, she picks her way through, yet her Thoroughbred blood will not allow the Anglo-Arab femme to go slowly. Soon she is through. May as well ignore the drabness of the place; every place has its bright spot, its own kind of beauty. 'Tis only a matter of finding it. [ Post a Reply to This Message ]