08-25-2015, 02:37 PM
Porrim has wandered an awful lot in the past few years.
The Jungle had held – will always hold – a special place in her heart, and even though she'd waited patiently for the day the red X would mar her breast, it never happened. One day, however, the flowers and the okapi just – vanished. She wasn't certain why. Still isn't. The Jungle is a fierce thing, and it had seemed unlikely that it had simply loosened its hold on a sister of the Amazons, former or not. So she'd waited, and word had gotten around, eventually, to her on-again off-again home in the Meadow. Beqanna was angry. She hadn't been surprised, really – not after all the tumult in the past years – and had quietly counted her lucky stars that she'd struck out beyond the kingdom's humid borders not long after Quark. Porrim cannot fathom life without wings.
Though her drifting has taken her in some interesting directions – the Dale, once, almost, and Tiphon – she always seems to wind up in the Meadow again. Something about the peoplewatching, in a sense. And the decent company. And the... random encounters. Porrim shifts absently and lifts a wing to peer back at her side, already starting to look a bit broader than she's used to. What can she say? He was pretty. Call it a vice.
Speaking of random encounters. Porrim lifts her head as a flashy – and incredibly excitable – filly nearly bounds headlong into one of her companions, who looks less than impressed. Porrim doesn't get a goodbye (not that she's surprised) as the other mare hastily moves off without a word, taking advantage of the filly turning her back for a moment. She's – well, she's a bold one, that kid. Porrim flicks her ears back uncertainly as the painted girl pounces gleefully on an unsuspecting stallion and is promptly launched off his back. It's not the stallion she leaps upon, however, but the one she's thrown into that reacts nastily to the mishap, and the yellow mare's expression darkens as he rounds on her with a scowl. Nothing about this encounter looks any good, and, pinning her ears, Porrim picks her way through the snow to stand next to Gryffen, sizing him up as she waits for Annihilate to regain her footing.
“Apologies,” she replies, breath fogging in the cold afternoon air. “I know her mother. I'll take her back.” She doesn't, of course, but anywhere right now is better than a grown stallion trying to pick a fight with a foal. Unless, of course, Gryffen would like to pick on someone more his size.
OOC; Sorry for the lack of html! <3 Editing some as we speak.
The Jungle had held – will always hold – a special place in her heart, and even though she'd waited patiently for the day the red X would mar her breast, it never happened. One day, however, the flowers and the okapi just – vanished. She wasn't certain why. Still isn't. The Jungle is a fierce thing, and it had seemed unlikely that it had simply loosened its hold on a sister of the Amazons, former or not. So she'd waited, and word had gotten around, eventually, to her on-again off-again home in the Meadow. Beqanna was angry. She hadn't been surprised, really – not after all the tumult in the past years – and had quietly counted her lucky stars that she'd struck out beyond the kingdom's humid borders not long after Quark. Porrim cannot fathom life without wings.
Though her drifting has taken her in some interesting directions – the Dale, once, almost, and Tiphon – she always seems to wind up in the Meadow again. Something about the peoplewatching, in a sense. And the decent company. And the... random encounters. Porrim shifts absently and lifts a wing to peer back at her side, already starting to look a bit broader than she's used to. What can she say? He was pretty. Call it a vice.
Speaking of random encounters. Porrim lifts her head as a flashy – and incredibly excitable – filly nearly bounds headlong into one of her companions, who looks less than impressed. Porrim doesn't get a goodbye (not that she's surprised) as the other mare hastily moves off without a word, taking advantage of the filly turning her back for a moment. She's – well, she's a bold one, that kid. Porrim flicks her ears back uncertainly as the painted girl pounces gleefully on an unsuspecting stallion and is promptly launched off his back. It's not the stallion she leaps upon, however, but the one she's thrown into that reacts nastily to the mishap, and the yellow mare's expression darkens as he rounds on her with a scowl. Nothing about this encounter looks any good, and, pinning her ears, Porrim picks her way through the snow to stand next to Gryffen, sizing him up as she waits for Annihilate to regain her footing.
“Apologies,” she replies, breath fogging in the cold afternoon air. “I know her mother. I'll take her back.” She doesn't, of course, but anywhere right now is better than a grown stallion trying to pick a fight with a foal. Unless, of course, Gryffen would like to pick on someone more his size.
OOC; Sorry for the lack of html! <3 Editing some as we speak.