Golden Plains
The haven of dandelions, roses, and daises, there would be no better description of Golden Plains than a touch of gold. It’s as if the fabled King Midas flew down, caressing every flower and leaf. The sun, also a bright gold high in the sky, rains down little drops of more gold, sprinkling it’s magic upon everything within this gemstone of a land.
This land is closed. It is no longer habitable.
tearing down walls
IP: 77.98.211.44
Posted on May 7, 2011 at 01:10:42 PM by PERSIAN
He felt no remorse as he glimpsed the parting silhouette of mother and child, in the knowledge that in all probability, the two would never see one another again. If they did happen to come across one another by chance, the likelihood would be that they would not recognise one another. Alas, fate had dealt a cruel hand once again.
With Emerald away, Persian made his way down to the street to watch the deer. The stags had been crowed with magnificent antlers, wide and vast, though not yet sharp for the fight. Fearlessly he wandering in their midst, moving with the same strut that they used. He paused to glance at the fawns, tumbling in the weeds with their vigilant mothers nearby. Then he continued, down to the waterside, drinking in earnest to relieve after the intense midday sun.
It was here that his companion found him once more, sodden after rolling in the deepest part of the waterway, his muscles tight against his glistening skin. Persian watched her come in to land, pricking his ears as he thought over how majestic her golden wings looked in the evening light.
She leaned into him, and affectionately he began to groom the top of her mane, fussing over every strand and hoping to take her mind off things. It was bound to be a very difficult day when her mare had to give up her foal.
“I am sure she will find a comfortable home, it is probably for the best,” he said softly, an attempt to console his friend. Persian felt no regret that the filly had not stayed, glad in the knowledge that he could not be blamed for having given Emerald the choice. Besides, she was not his foal to worry about. This was how he had been brought up to think, how nature had intended it to be, and who was he to defy nature?
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P E R S I A N
immortal chestnut arabian |
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