Posted on November 11, 2019 at 06:20:29 PM by TAVAS
And the cold lonely air. On the rock restless seas. She lay in a quiet heap among the sand for several minutes, her nostrils flaring and her mouth agape while she heaved for air. Somewhere along the way as she tumbled, she'd knocked the wind from her lungs. And now they heaved with great urgency for breath, despite her desperate, shallow attempts to satisfy them. The palomino mare thought she was dying as she lay there, her legs still strewn about in every which way, and her head half-buried in orange sand. She sucked in the small pebbles that made up the terrain with every staccato-like gasp, but still, her body screamed for more. When the stallion appeared with an amused look upon his features, she was only just regaining her composure. Her erratic breathing was beginning to subside. Sand clung to half her face and most of her golden body. It matted its way into her wavy blonde locks. The tendons in one ankle pulsed like a heartbeat from strain, a slight injury from her grand display moments earlier. It would eventually swell with hot fluid. Tavas did not immediately rise when Bjorn found her. She didn't shake the sand from her coat. She merely tucked her splayed legs underneath her belly, and raised her head from the Earth's floor, to at least look somewhat composed in the aftermath of her frantic gallop. She snorted and pinned her ears when the stallion had the audacity to speak to her in such away. "Sure, why not." She said in a sarcastic tone. "Just understand your funeral is coming, friend. Warsaw will be here to save me before you know it." T A V A S Palomino | Mare | Vita Nova x Nephilim | 15h | Photo © Carina Mailwald |©Vinyl |
