Island Resort
The herdland of Island Resort is a hard to find island located under the jurisdiction of the Light Kingdom. The weather is warm and kind, perfect with protection from the worst weather on one side and a playful surf on the other. Plant life is abundant here and there is a hidden sand bar leading to the island only long-time residents would know exists.
This land is closed. No herds can live here.
Lend me your ears.
IP: 66.57.127.252
Posted on March 22, 2011 at 02:38:48 PM by CHOIRE
She survives on instincts alone. Her instincts tell her which way to move, what meaning a glance or a nudge holds; she is still young, still eager to learn what the world has to offer her. There is only silence when the black stallion comes to their little group. His lips move, but her eyes do not linger on them – instead, she watches him as he moves, as he dips around her and pushes at her hip. Instinct says ‘go’ and so she does. She follows the twins and the desert-mare, keeping a wary eye on the black as he weaves back and forth.
She pauses as her world begins to change, begins to smell like salt and sand. The little paint snorts nervously, though the sound only vibrates silently within her skull. It is only with the firm direction of Bahamut that she moves forward once more, her eyes wide and gaze sweeping wildly. This isolated island was entirely different from the dun’s meadow – the copse where she first opened her eyes had been cool, dipped in speckled sunlight and shadows. This new place – this new home? – is bright, unfamiliar but alluring. The sun shines bright against a mixture of sand and pale earth; the waters glitter, the waves light and easy. The dun breathes in deeply, tries to remember, to memorize.
After a moment of hesitation, she warily moves forward again, brushing past the black stallion. Gold-green grass sweeps around her underbelly, tastes salty to her sensitive lips. Her attention focused on the brush of grass, the taste of that grass, she did not see where the twins had stopped – accidently, she bumps into one of them. Startled, the paint jerks backward, eyes going wide, unsure of whom she had bumped into. Her gaze sweeps wildly from twin to twin, then to the desert-mare and Bahamut.
From her mouth tumbles a garbled, unintelligible sound – perhaps, an apology if her wide, toffee-colored eyes tell the same story.I'm holding onto my faith
CHOIRE |
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