03-04-2016, 01:04 AM
She is hauntingly elegant, carefully sweeping her body between swollen brush and broken branches. Her body holds a certain aura, an aura of gracefulness as it travels along her energy.
It was time, again, to meander from the walls of home and to indulge herself in strangers. She has a thing for strangers, a love for the unknown. Not necessarily the risk portion, but the opportunity to experience something fresh. She has been burdened with a boring life, a boring story, a boring start. With every new face comes a chance to be something more—to be more daring, or at the very least educated.
The meadow greets her like a child returning home for a weekend from college. The familiar scent mixed with new candle aromas (in this case, horses), but yet decorated in the same old fashion it always had been—always will be. The thick trees, rekindling their life after a chilled winter. Blossoming spring flowers attempting to sprout from the iced earth.
A warm gust of air teases her chest in a nourishing way, a motherly touch. For Exemplary, all she has ever known—or rather, ever liked—is here. Growing up her kingdom was not her home but instead her “place”. It didn’t have the welcoming scent, the moistening air, or the familiar setting. It was hot and dry, with sand that clung to every which way and horses whom never learned her name. It wasn’t home. It was a temporary boarding facility with an uncanny resemblance to the Sahara.
It takes a majority of the afternoon before she stumbles upon an odd pair. The mare smells of unfamiliarity, not even a scent resembling a far away kingdom or herdland. The mare is dosed in an alienated aroma that makes Exemplary more envious than curious. What would it be like to submerge yourself in a land you weren’t born to? To have the opportunity travel elsewhere in hopes of something better?
She wouldn’t know, she doesn’t have the guts to.
He, however, is sporting the masculine cologne of Beqanna. He was decorated in fancy anatomy that certainly most would judge, however she is unsure of whether to be disgusted or in awe. Traits, they were another thing to envy and even more so something she was not fortunate enough to have. Not even the pretty cosmetic ones.
Well, she doesn’t have any traits that she knows of.
Our poor darling, destined for failure.
“Am I too late?”
It was time, again, to meander from the walls of home and to indulge herself in strangers. She has a thing for strangers, a love for the unknown. Not necessarily the risk portion, but the opportunity to experience something fresh. She has been burdened with a boring life, a boring story, a boring start. With every new face comes a chance to be something more—to be more daring, or at the very least educated.
The meadow greets her like a child returning home for a weekend from college. The familiar scent mixed with new candle aromas (in this case, horses), but yet decorated in the same old fashion it always had been—always will be. The thick trees, rekindling their life after a chilled winter. Blossoming spring flowers attempting to sprout from the iced earth.
A warm gust of air teases her chest in a nourishing way, a motherly touch. For Exemplary, all she has ever known—or rather, ever liked—is here. Growing up her kingdom was not her home but instead her “place”. It didn’t have the welcoming scent, the moistening air, or the familiar setting. It was hot and dry, with sand that clung to every which way and horses whom never learned her name. It wasn’t home. It was a temporary boarding facility with an uncanny resemblance to the Sahara.
It takes a majority of the afternoon before she stumbles upon an odd pair. The mare smells of unfamiliarity, not even a scent resembling a far away kingdom or herdland. The mare is dosed in an alienated aroma that makes Exemplary more envious than curious. What would it be like to submerge yourself in a land you weren’t born to? To have the opportunity travel elsewhere in hopes of something better?
She wouldn’t know, she doesn’t have the guts to.
He, however, is sporting the masculine cologne of Beqanna. He was decorated in fancy anatomy that certainly most would judge, however she is unsure of whether to be disgusted or in awe. Traits, they were another thing to envy and even more so something she was not fortunate enough to have. Not even the pretty cosmetic ones.
Well, she doesn’t have any traits that she knows of.
Our poor darling, destined for failure.
“Am I too late?”