04-30-2016, 08:16 PM
PHAEDRUS
She notices, and it startles him. He softens his features looking to her for a moment only to find himself debating the most random things in his mind. Debating why he is debating, why he doesn’t just settle in and make the trip easier on her by conversing. Yet through it all his maw stays closed, and the only raw sounds to be heard from him is those that come with breathing. She is relaxing to be around in her own way. Lately he’s been around so many high-strung mares that he can’t help but wonder when her explosion will happen. It never does, and slowly he eases into the rhythm of… of… them. Held a sort of satisfying ring to it. No doubt most wouldn’t understand what he meant by that word.
Them, the togetherness and the quiet ways that had him settling into a comfortable monotony that kept pace with his usual silence. It was only his walks alone that this sort of daydreaming occurs for him, yet here he is in the presence of another, a female no less daydreaming and relaxing along the quiet trail. Occasional conversation just enough to keep the world around them spiced up. Getting to know Bersa would prove to be a very intriguing venture. If only the big dude knew just why they clicked so. Being half uncle to her would help with the connection no doubt.
Finally she asks something that he can help with, and it’s a wicked grin that flashes through his face with the idea that forms. Flat, wide, and snug he wraps around feeling his heart quicken slightly. The rush just before flight, and in his eagerness whispers something to her just as she does so. The wings on either side of her/him. The morphed creature that they became together and she takes off. He senses his eagerness feeding from hers, his heart racing to match her pace. Each thunder of hooves bringing them closer to airborne. Finally his wings spread and one swoop of the enormous propellers set them sailing from the ground. His wings beat against the air, and she squeals, asking for more, higher, farther. Turning his head slightly he nips at the underside of her face gently, affectionately. Scooping the wind with his wings the rush of air could be heard around them. Almost as if a rug was methodically being beaten near his ears. His mane lashing and tangling with hers, dark against light, light in dark, his tail mixing and melding to be one with hers streaming behind them. As light as she is, he is dark. But in this she would know the feelings that come with flight. The addiction to the rush. They reach the low hanging clouds and he nips at one with a chuckle. Now you know what it is to fly. leaving his wings spread he doesn’t work them quite so much anymore. Instead letting them float there suspended by nothing. Nudging her again he circles above the golden plains. That’s our home there, and that’s the Dale over there. He can’t help a another grin. If there was any place that he could be care free it was here.
Them, the togetherness and the quiet ways that had him settling into a comfortable monotony that kept pace with his usual silence. It was only his walks alone that this sort of daydreaming occurs for him, yet here he is in the presence of another, a female no less daydreaming and relaxing along the quiet trail. Occasional conversation just enough to keep the world around them spiced up. Getting to know Bersa would prove to be a very intriguing venture. If only the big dude knew just why they clicked so. Being half uncle to her would help with the connection no doubt.
Finally she asks something that he can help with, and it’s a wicked grin that flashes through his face with the idea that forms. Flat, wide, and snug he wraps around feeling his heart quicken slightly. The rush just before flight, and in his eagerness whispers something to her just as she does so. The wings on either side of her/him. The morphed creature that they became together and she takes off. He senses his eagerness feeding from hers, his heart racing to match her pace. Each thunder of hooves bringing them closer to airborne. Finally his wings spread and one swoop of the enormous propellers set them sailing from the ground. His wings beat against the air, and she squeals, asking for more, higher, farther. Turning his head slightly he nips at the underside of her face gently, affectionately. Scooping the wind with his wings the rush of air could be heard around them. Almost as if a rug was methodically being beaten near his ears. His mane lashing and tangling with hers, dark against light, light in dark, his tail mixing and melding to be one with hers streaming behind them. As light as she is, he is dark. But in this she would know the feelings that come with flight. The addiction to the rush. They reach the low hanging clouds and he nips at one with a chuckle. Now you know what it is to fly. leaving his wings spread he doesn’t work them quite so much anymore. Instead letting them float there suspended by nothing. Nudging her again he circles above the golden plains. That’s our home there, and that’s the Dale over there. He can’t help a another grin. If there was any place that he could be care free it was here.
i'll carry this flag, to the grave if i must