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Post by strixx on Dec 1, 2022 13:42:14 GMT -4
A single track of hoofprints marred the beach's blank canvas, their little crevices pooled in gentle shadow against the pale pinkish-white of the sand. Follow them.
A pale figure stands in the surf, seafoam swirling around her fetlocks. She could almost represent the horizon beyond, mottled as it is by little lavender cloud puffs, drifting across the sky like breaths of laughter from a joyful god. Her coat is mottled, too, but if any god ever laughed across her skin, she thinks it must have been a rather mischievous one. Seven years was a long time for a soul like hers to live without its body's freedom.
The sun is only barely beginning to reach over the darkness of the waves, painting a pale dawn sky with warm hues of gold and pink. The water is cold, and the waves frighten her. She remembers, and takes another step into the sea.
Every morning, Heron wades into the ocean, as if to prove to herself that she is still alive, that she is really here, that she is ready to live the rest of her life unafraid. (She is afraid.)
ooc: i listened to this while writing 
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Faeriiefox
foal
Posts: 9 
deviantART: Faeriiefox
Discord: Faeriiefox#7644
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Post by Faeriiefox on Dec 4, 2022 22:39:07 GMT -4
R E G A L I O
The almost-white stallion had many times stared out over the raging ocean since they had stepped up on this very island, knowing what they had all lost, and gained. There was nothing quite like freedom, but at the very same time, they had lost everything they had ever known. Everything known and safe, everything connected to a memory and feeling. Now, however, they were making new memories, as free horses. That was in a way a strange thing to think about, because it wasn't something that had ever really crossed his mind before. The circus had been his life and breath, from the day he had been born.
With a snort, the stallion, standing among some nearby trees, decided to take a walk down on the beach, wanting to feel the cold water on his legs. He was however interrupted in his thoughts as his warm brown eyes were set on some hoofprints, not made by him. Breathing in the scent of them with a lowered head, he then raised that chiseled head towards a shape further away on the beach. Mare. He faintly remembered the scent, a mare from the circus.
Deciding that he might as well say hello, get his weekly dose of interaction, he started to follow those very hoofprints ever so slowly, easing his way over. Giving a quiet neigh, just to announce his presence and not scare her, he looked her over as he came closer. Yes, he remembered her. He hadn't seen her since they had arrived, which was a feat in it's own, since they hadn't been that many from the start. |
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