Posted on October 31, 2012 at 00:50:38 AM by jezibelle
 bay blanketed mare of the dunes The sun was sinking. Jezibelle watched its slow descent from the corner of her eye. To her, the setting sun had always burned more brilliantly than the sunrise. Its fire was fierce as it attempted to light the world with its dying breath as it sank below the horizon, a blazing ball of red and yellow fire falling from the sky. The sun could be bright in the mornings, but it seemed weak and sleepy compared to the star the bled above the Earth.
She flicked an ear at Badr as he responded to her. "That’s silly," she told him. "Sand is sand." The same could be said of her trees, perhaps. But she had seen the sprites who lingered in the sunbeams and had felt their wings on her face, soft as the brush of an eyelash against her lips. Sand was sand, loose and empty. It surprised her that the stallion would even admit to his own physical vulnerability. From what she had observed growing up in the Forest and during her ostracism on the Crossing, stallions were great posturing air-heads. The mares had been no better, flouncing about with a prance in their step as if sex was all they had to offer. And perhaps that was true. Jezibelle missed the silence of winter. "Although, when the moon is full, I see snow," she admitted. "If you bury your hooves deep enough, it’s cold." |
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- Let there be fire. - By BADR November 2, 2012 at 08:24:27 PM
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