why do we look to our stars?
The doe-skinned mare with the dark points is laying on the sandy beach with rocks jutting out from it's wide expanse. Starfire could not remember how she got here or when she arrived here, but she is nonetheless. Her dark eyes flutter open in the bright, mid-day sun. She lifts her black-tipped head from the soft, sandy bank of the island. Starfire tries to get her bearing and tries to stand on her dainty legs that taper into wider, bigger than they should be hooves. Her Andalusian mother gave her grace and beauty with her delicately arched neck and flashy Spanish stride. Her father gave to her his thick feet and feathering and stocky, well-muscled frame. Her parents both gave her their height and strength. She stands, wobbly and weary, as if she hasn't used her legs in a while. She stumbles about ten feet before crashing to the ground again. Her black, flared nostrils let out an aggravated rush of air, before she attempts to stand again. This time, she is able to stand, the sand sticking to her shiny golden coat and long, wavy black mane and tail. She waits for a few minutes, then shakes her body, neck and head to rid herself of the annoying dirt. She had no idea where she was, but she surely intended to find out. The spit-fire snorted again, then began to move deeper into the Bay's lands. Dark, pragmatic eyes and dainty black-dipped ears flick to and fro; they are ever-vigilant and ready to alert her to any potential dangerous situations. She did not trust anyone or anything. Her ears flick and stop, as if honing in on a particular sound. She freezes, mid-stride as a doe does in the meadow before she gets shot by a hunter. Her eyes widen for a second, if you were to blink, you would surely have missed it. She stands tall, her head held in defiance, as she waits for the sound to get closer to her. Her tail and mane blowing gently in the Bay's hot summer breeze. She looks statuesque, a beauty of unmatched proportions.
I know you're there... Her lilting, seductive-toned voice rings out as she halts, flicking her tail idly. She could hear the other equine approaching her before she even saw them.
STARFiRE
when the answers we seek come from within
15.3 hand, five year old female buckskin warlander of Tink
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