the iron grey mare hadn’t dared venture to the common this time of year. she had no desire to be whisked away by some hare brained knight in shining armor… she was not some simpering helpless woman, desperate for a man’s comfort and control. the meadow seemed to be growing too crowded as well, much to her dismay. she had pulled herself ashore there some days ago and meandered about ever since… she has no real plans but doesn’t feel the need to make any either. the future seems about as glum a prospect as her past. the falls, however, seemed just right for the dreadful little goldilocks. dredge prowled the path from the meadow toward the falls themselves, pleased to see that it was considerably less crowded here. as the sun beamed down in happy patches on her back she almost felt as if she could enjoy herself there… she was relieved to be alone, unbothered by the never-ending and annoying dalliances she couldn’t seem to avoid witnessing at the meadow. her eyes, one ice blue and the other dark, somehow miss the statuesque figure relaxing in the pool near the falls… she is too drawn by the hypnotic rush of babbling water over the rocks. she had never really witnessed such a beautiful feature before and she finds herself somewhat stunned. as she stares, embalmed in a sense of peaceful wonder, her features soften and her body relaxes somewhat… there has hardly been a moment, in all the past few months, where she has braved life outside the bitchy suit of armor she normally dons but for the moment she seems to have escaped it. it is the first time in months, that she feels anything akin to hope. that feeling, however, was terribly short lived. as her eyes follow the path of the water, to the blossoming pool at its foot she realizes she has been in the presence of another this whole time. her ears flatten instantly, from their inquisitive and forward position, to press harshly against her poll. her eyes harden and she takes a step backward, away from the waters edge. she eyes the stranger with an irritated manner, tail swishing against her legs. she was not the type to approach another, nor did she feel like engaging in conversation, but she can’t help her smart mouth. son of a bitch, not a single bit of privacy to be found on this damn isle… she blurts out the words angrily, not necessarily directing them at the figure across the water, but not quietly either… while she doesn’t offer to leave his peaceful spot, still somewhat entranced by the water, she continues to mutter. thought i was hit in the head to have washed up here in the first place now looks like i’m going blind as well. |