Playground

Parents do not fear; your children are safe in the Playground. A benevolent fairy watches over young colts and fillies who come to frolic here. The trees are ancient things, and widely spaced (excellent for tag) and there are several low logs to leap over and many ponds and thickets full of wonder for the little ones. Come play and form friendships that will last a lifetime.

bring in the beast on its chain
IP: 81.158.131.179
Posted on May 2, 2011 at 03:24:32 AM by redshift

Somehow the buckskin colt finds it infinitely reassuring when his half-brother deposits the bundle of grass at his feet, lowering his muzzle to eat the green stalks as directed. It's not as though he isn't given orders enough at home – his mother has for the best part given up on improving him through maxims of her own devising, but those of the Chamber's members who've taken a personal dislike to him don't restrain themselves – it's the way in which Marston seems to care about him enough to bother with him already. The horned colt is not much smaller than Redshift sitting down and the younger of the duo finds himself examining the curved horns which stem from Marston's forehead. He's about to ask why they're there when his friend comes up with a different question and he answers between mouthfuls of short playground grass. “The Chamber,” he says, his next comment muffled by what he's eating – 'don't talk with your mouthful' isn't favourite Chamber teaching. “I'm not gonna stay there, though.” A few more bites of green and he asks his own question, not realising that some might find it rude. “Why do you have horns?”

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