The Lost Islands
CLICK FOR IMAGE CREDITS

Common

Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.

Hell on heels
Posted on April 20, 2022 at 06:42:53 PM by FIRESTORM




Her first experience with this island had been unremarkable. Or, at least, the end result had been; she had met a couple of different horses. A pushy dun who’d attempted to lay his claim upon her, and an older, but fearsome gold stallion had intervened, only to have a dark tan stallion cackle with amusement at the display between the pair. Then there was the pale stallion she’d met on that rather cold island; he had been interesting. Took the time to speak with her. But even he had proven a disappointment, in the end; for her wandering mind and drifting spirit had taken her away from him. Of course, this disappointment was no fault of his own.

She was a bit older now, wiser, too. She knew what she was looking for, but she didn’t know where to find it. Not here. And so the red mare finds herself in the familiar field where all the drama had played out once again. Her coat was scruffy, and most of her roan had faded for the winter -- but it would be more obvious in spring, when she sheds. But she doesn’t mind her own colors. Her tail flicks behind her, her head bobbing and (mostly) level with her shoulder, with each stride.

Finally, Firestorm comes to a stop. She allows her head to drop, and her whiskered, velvety lips brush at the minimal foliage that covers the ground, which she tugs up, scavenging. But that was when a nearby bush had caught her attention. She pushes forward to it, where she begins to nibble and munch away at the much more fibrous greenery there. Winter was her least favorite of seasons, and it was because of precisely this: food was in short supply, and what little she could find lacked the flavor she usually enjoyed and savored.

To the ordinary onlooker, it would appear as though the mare had simply wandered in, clueless to the predicament she would inevitably find herself in, especially since she did look like a young adult. But the truth was that the scruffy red mare was fully aware of her surroundings -- and any stallion (or mare, for that matter) who would approach would not be able to simply place a bite of claim upon her. For the moment they drew near enough? The mare would give an offended squeal, turn her hind quarters -- which she weaponized with a kick -- and a heartbeat later, she would be in motion at a canter. She’d half-turn, ears pointed to better assess the situation. If the party in question wished to issue their claim without so much as speaking to her first? She was going to make them work for it -- for she desired more sustenance than her previous experience.


RED ROAN / 14 HANDS / MUSTANG / MARE / PLAYED BY GLORY


Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:





Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->