yearling . filly . marwari mix . black tobiano . 16.0 hands (wfg) . venkat x brijesha . sabrina
ONCE IN A DREAM OF A NIGHT I STOOD
Lone in the light of a magical wood
Arcana's young eyes are more practiced than most at observing subtle changes in another's behavior. Since she was very young, she was able to predict her mother's seizures before they took hold. And with her empathetic personality, it is easy for her to notice Orhan's darting glances and his nervous half-smiles. Arcana can relate to the thrill he feels, but her thrill is gained from her bold venture away from home and her eagerness to make a friend her own age. ...And Orhan's handsome, coltish face doesn't fail to quicken her racing heart. Arcana does not understand the furtive exchange with the mare at the oasis, or his need to draw her away. There must be a story behind this shady behavior, but Arcana feels she would be too bold to ask.
The black and white filly pumps her legs to keep up with the colt. There is a point in time when the going becomes easier and she finds a way of moving through the sand that is more efficient than before, but she soon becomes fatigued and the task becomes difficult once more. Arcana is running out of steam by the time they reach the little town of cacti. The filly is sweating. She is foaming between her legs and sweat runs down her chest Her stringy mane clings to her neck in wet clumps. Arcana flops her white tail from hip to hip only to fan herself. Her nostrils flare and her sides heave from the effort of it all.
Arcana takes a moment to catch her rapid breath, then follows Orhan's gaze to a fertile basin. This desert must be dotted with secret oases where only those who know them are able to find them. She follows at a comfortable distance as they descend into the valley. They stop at the shores of a crystal pool and Arcana lowers her lips to drink. It is then that the buckskin colt apologizes for their journey and warns her of the snakes. Arcana snorts into the water and picks her head up. Her dark eyes widen at the thought of snakes. That's one thing the Badlands has plenty of and Arcana has always feared them. "I really don't like snakes." Arcana states the obvious and feels dumb for it as soon as she says it, but she's run out of things to say and her butterflies in her stomach seem to be interfering with her brain waves.
soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang
AND SPIRITS OF TRUTH WERE THE birds THAT SANG
Arcana