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If someone were to ask Rosaline if she has ever been in love she would undoubtedly blush. Love to her is something unreal - something untouchable and she has yet to see it in its truest form. Oh yes, she had seen the love between her mother and her father - not a proper love, for it would be most correct to say that Rosaline had loved Array but was not in love with him, her affection for the medicine hat stallion had been obvious, but no deeper than the surface, and Everett had not mourned. No more than she knew she should have.

Oh Rosaline had felt it, the gentle stumming of the strings of her heart - plucked tenderly by the suave stallion of the shore. But she had not associated it with the deeper meaning of the word love, she had thought it to be more like her mother's love for her father - deep, caring, a friendship with the potential to blossom.

Of course, she was as prone to wandering as the rest of her family. Like Asra and Arris and Asche, they had strayed from the islands in search for new things, leaving with the youthful ideals of adventure. her return had brought her sadness, especially on returning to the Shore under the watchful care of Czar - the beach had been just a little less bright without the buckskin stallion at its reigns, and each day she spent there had left her longing for the companionship she had so readily abandoned for adventure.

She regrets that, you know.

Things were different, her second time living in the shore had been short lived, and with Arris by her side Rosaline had set her sights on a new goal. A home for herself and Arris, somewhere they can both thrive, live in peace and be protected like they deserve, and she thinks that to a certain extent Arris wanted the same thing. Her time with her sister had been pleasant, it was a welcomed change to have someone familiar to spend her time with, and often the sisters simply grazed, they had no need of petty conversations to fill their time.

She wanders through the meadow, her head lost in the cloud, oblivious to the autumn storm that brews above her head, it would not hit for another few hours, but already the air was thick and the birds shuffled uncertainly in their tree. Rosaline could taste it, but paid the storm no heed - she had been born on the island of ice, snow and sea, storms had been a part of life and she had nothing to fear from them.

debonaire

If someone were to ask Rosaline if she has ever been in love she would undoubtedly blush. Love to her is something unreal - something untouchable and she has yet to see it in its truest form. Oh yes, she had seen the love between her mother and her father - not a proper love, for it would be most correct to say that Rosaline had loved Array but was not in love with him, her affection for the medicine hat stallion had been obvious, but no deeper than the surface, and Everett had not mourned. No more than she knew she should have.

Oh Rosaline had felt it, the gentle stumming of the strings of her heart - plucked tenderly by the suave stallion of the shore. But she had not associated it with the deeper meaning of the word love, she had thought it to be more like her mother's love for her father - deep, caring, a friendship with the potential to blossom.

Of course, she was as prone to wandering as the rest of her family. Like Asra and Arris and Asche, they had strayed from the islands in search for new things, leaving with the youthful ideals of adventure. her return had brought her sadness, especially on returning to the Shore under the watchful care of Czar - the beach had been just a little less bright without the buckskin stallion at its reigns, and each day she spent there had left her longing for the companionship she had so readily abandoned for adventure.

She regrets that, you know.

Things were different, her second time living in the shore had been short lived, and with Arris by her side Rosaline had set her sights on a new goal. A home for herself and Arris, somewhere they can both thrive, live in peace and be protected like they deserve, and she thinks that to a certain extent Arris wanted the same thing. Her time with her sister had been pleasant, it was a welcomed change to have someone familiar to spend her time with, and often the sisters simply grazed, they had no need of petty conversations to fill their time.

She wanders through the meadow, her head lost in the cloud, oblivious to the autumn storm that brews above her head, it would not hit for another few hours, but already the air was thick and the birds shuffled uncertainly in their tree. Rosaline could taste it, but paid the storm no heed - she had been born on the island of ice, snow and sea, storms had been a part of life and she had nothing to fear from them.