where innocences is burned in flames - " />
The Lost Islands
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where innocences is burned in flames







Björn
where innocence is burned in flames



It is a quiet night except for the soft buzz of insects, the occasional caw of a parrot, and the distant crash of the ocean against the rocks. Humidity clings to every moving, living creature. It sticks to his smoky grullo hide, and causes him to perspire beneath his thick inky mane. A soft breeze whispers through the tops of the canopy, its cool touch refreshes him.

As the night spans, Björn feels restless beneath the starry heavens. He takes a look around at his sleeping harem, a smile touches his pink lips. He pushes himself from his resting place, his hooves find the path that leads to the foaming surf of the sea. She beckons him with her soft whisper, beckoning him to stand in her refreshing water. Yes, a late night swim could cool his smoky hide.

The sand feels soft beneath his hooves, he picks up a ground swallowing tölt, the wind pushes into his face. The wind whips his inky black mane into twisted tendrils. With every stride his legs pump beneath him, spraying sand out behind him with every step. Excitement pumps his blood through his veins, adrenaline pulses driving his legs quicker beneath him. He continued like this until his breath is sucked through his nostrils in gasps, this is the only time he slows. His thick head swivels, glacial eyes blaze with life.

His nostrils flare with every quickened breath. A scent floats around him, a stranger's scent. He jerks his head further up the beach. The dawning sunlight reveals a heap lying in the sand. His ears pull forward, standing erect beneath his thick forelock. His muscles vibrate beneath his hide as he strides toward the heap. She lays in a mess of blonde tresses, and tangled legs. Concern furrows his brow as he dares to step closer, his pink muzzle seeks out her fetlock. He nuzzles her leg, checking to see if she still was of the living and not on to the afterlife.


"Föl kona," he says just above a whisper. He does not want to startle her nor frighten her.

Translation:
Föl kona: pale woman

Icelandic mutt - Grullo Sabino - Stallion - 14.3 hh - Dögun x Freya
King of the Ridge



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