Falls
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on August 26, 2016 at 05:51:05 PM by PSYCHEDELiC
The cold weather was coming and Psychedelic hated it. Already the wind held a chilly bite and the leaves had all but turned their myriad of hues and fallen to the ground to be smashed beneath hooves walking over them. Soon the sky would be thick with clouds and snow would fall over Crossing, forcing Psychedelic to live through its icy chill. The only though which could comfort him were dreams of Atlantis; the soft white sandy beaches, humid green-leafed jungle, and bright turquoise waters. If he thought about it long enough he could even imagine he felt the press of the hot son on his back soaking deep into his muscles… A gust of wind pushed past him as he moved from the trees (which had been somewhat blocking it) and tugged at his hair. The cold snapped him back to reality and his ears turned back, pulling flat against his skull. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath. Every year it’s the same damn conversation with you. I’m so tired of hearing it. “Well too bad!” Psychedelic snorted as he responded with a tight clip to his tone, tossing his head and rolling his eyes. “Every time winter comes around you’re going to hear it again! I hate it! We’re a few weeks out and it’s already stupidly cold and I HATE it. It’s barely the end of autumn and it’s already freaking cold as frick.” Waaahhh my name’s Psychedelic and I hate the cold. Booooo hooo hooo. Psychedelic narrowed his eyes, ears still flat. “Would you just shut up?” The sky had grown dark long ago and Psychedelic knew it was near time to make his way back toward his brothers in the Lagoon. Maybe he could linger near Kendry in an attempt to slyly steal his body warmth; a stallion as big as Kendry out to put out quite a bit of it, after all. Psychedelic couldn’t very well cozy up to Sunshine without the possibility of earning a kick or a nip, so it’d have to be his brothers who helped ease his disregard for the autumn chill. Having arched around the border of the falls, Psychedelic stopped short at a dark stallion that was also standing still. Without hesitation he moved toward him, the cold and cream of his white-spotted coat almost dulled in the darkness. “Hey.” He said casually, stopping short and eyeing the stallion, wondering what his deal was. “What’s up?” WE'RE THE VOICE, WE'RE THE VOICE, WE'RE THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD |
Replies:
- this will be your last fight - By S U B - Z E R O August 29, 2016 at 08:20:13 PM
- we're the trash in your bed - By PSYCHEDELiC September 6, 2016 at 06:11:53 PM
- we all will stand and fight - By S U B Z E R O September 30, 2016 at 02:51:53 PM
- we're the trash in your bed - By PSYCHEDELiC September 6, 2016 at 06:11:53 PM
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