Common

MY, MY THOSE EYES LIKE FIRE
I'M A WINGED INSECT YOU'RE A FUNERAL PYRE



Scoria’s fiery eyes wander the scenery around her from beneath her tousled forelock. She tosses her head as the crisp, autumn air sends a chill running along her spine. She gives a small buck, a smile drawn across her lips as she frolics. She canters for a few strides, but slows to a trot again. She finds herself in a more populated area, and chooses to be polite rather than barrel through them thoughtlessly. She slows to a walk, giving a nod to the small gathering before turning herself away from them. Scoria licks her lips, and flicks her ears forward as she catches sight of a bay stallion, his markings unlike anything she had seen before.

At first, she assumes him to be moving elsewhere, but quickly realizes that he was indeed walking toward her, slowly but steadily. She picks her head up, ear remain forward as he speaks. She takes one step forward, head reached out slightly, her amicable smile remained. “A pleasure, Lucien!” Her voice was bright, a bit on the loud side. “I’m Scoria. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” Small talk wasn't her strong suit, but truth be told she did think it was a particularly beautiful day. She flicks her thick tail against her hocks, head tilted slightly wtih both curiosity and eagerness.


Scoria

vulcan x drosera
north swedish draft x noriker - mare - of (nowhere)