<font color=4f6367 face=times>who do you think you are%01 running 'round leaving scars?</font>

Your King Asmodeus
Your Queen ~~Nyimara~~
The Second None
The Herd Name, Name, Name		The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name
Allies Name (Land)		Enemies Solomon (Cove)
The Rules There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue. We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc. The King and Queen have final say in all matters.

who do you think you are, running 'round leaving scars?
Posted on July 3, 2012 at 03:01:05 PM by e n c a n t a d o r

e n c a n t a d o r
Selma? Olivia? Sylvania? Oh Gods, what is her name?

He had thought it was his sister Valencia at first, pale and ethereal as she was with her cream-colored coat and splashes of white. It was her gait that had given her away: where Valencia was strong and confident, this mare seemed uncertain and awkward and stood out against the harsh desert landscape like a sore thumb. Encantador feels a stab of pity for her as he stands watching her from a distance, perched atop his little hillock, but he dares not approach her until he can remember her blasted name.

It's when his female acquaintance turns for the mountains, clearly uncertain where she is going and seemingly half-blinded by the blowing sand that he can wait no longer. It's out of empathy that he gallops down the incline of his hill, dark tail fanning behind him to keep his balance, and makes straight for her, panic rising in his throat the closer he comes without being able to recall her name. But then, when he reaches her and sees her eyes, those kind eyes that had kept him company once upon a time in the meadow, it comes to him.

"Sylvia." Nostrils flaring, he reaches forward to gently touch her shoulder, and finds it scathing hot to the touch. Chit-chat can wait, he thinks, and pivots to lead her away back the way she'd come, away from the mountains and back into the endless sea of dunes. "Come, let's get you out of this horrible sun."

six-year-old stallion of the desert;
son of el barroco and writhe

Replies:

This road never looked so lonley - By S�lvia July 11, 2012 at 03:20:33 AM
- collecting your jar of hearts - By e n c a n t a d o r July 18, 2012 at 10:26:19 PM
  - x - By Canta July 22, 2012 at 12:33:05 PM

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