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cautious strides carry the bulk of the dancer into the terra. lengthy strides halt once the breach of the terrain is made, before nostrils let the wind carry all new scents to her in their own sweet time. once they do, however, fatale surmises that none of her fellow mares’ had made it to their new home yet. carcass is lowered ponderously down into the loam, waiting for the next move to be made. and I move again. the third time in less than a year. Cloud Dancer trace me born as the head mare's daughter. used to be the spy and messanger for her father until she was blinded. then femme was cast out of the herd, to live as best she could. she survived, and moved on. in fact, she cold probably become a runner once again- sight no longer haunts her. justify me beware, shrew is not all that meets the eye. as delicate as she looks, femme will fight for what she believes in and loves. but will only stray to the path of voilence if none other can be reached. in some aspects, her slightlessness comes as an advantage... visualize me coat is a dull white, reflecting the sun not. slender build, not meant for fighting. but for running- yes. orbs are pearly white, a defect. but not a hinderance. oh no, femme could do nicely without sight. so... figure it out. is she more than mortal? ...nope. |