06-03-2015, 05:11 PM
She has never left the humid jungle, but with no mother to tell her no and the fresh tattoo of her allegiance on her chest she feels imbued with a new found confidence.
Lanky, but with the promise of eventual grace, the roan yearling makes her way through Beqanna until she reaches the Meadow. She does not physically stand out in the crowd; she lacks her mother’s distinctive spots and her father’s wings, but she has an effervescent curiosity in her expression and a bounce in her step that is undeniably noticeable even surrounded by others that are far more striking. She’s not pretty – she’s still a child – but perhaps someday she might be. Her green eyes are bright, fringed by thick black lashes and a heavy shield of raven black mane that contrasts sharply with the snow white blaze that splits her face. Though her mother’s bloodline is thick with warriors (and the feathering of Ephrelle’s white legs hint to that), she takes after her sleek golden father as well, resulting in a young horse that – despite her coloring – might be a sleek young Warlander.
Her social experience is limited to her mother, brother, and the women of the Jungle, but that does not show the young filly’s expression. She looks equally pleased and smiles freely at everyone she passes. Eventually she settles down beside the slow moving river, having chosen it as an acceptable place to wait and see if anyone wants to talk with her. She greets every passerby with a hello in the hopes that one might slow to chat, but is not disheartened when a few do pass on by.
Lanky, but with the promise of eventual grace, the roan yearling makes her way through Beqanna until she reaches the Meadow. She does not physically stand out in the crowd; she lacks her mother’s distinctive spots and her father’s wings, but she has an effervescent curiosity in her expression and a bounce in her step that is undeniably noticeable even surrounded by others that are far more striking. She’s not pretty – she’s still a child – but perhaps someday she might be. Her green eyes are bright, fringed by thick black lashes and a heavy shield of raven black mane that contrasts sharply with the snow white blaze that splits her face. Though her mother’s bloodline is thick with warriors (and the feathering of Ephrelle’s white legs hint to that), she takes after her sleek golden father as well, resulting in a young horse that – despite her coloring – might be a sleek young Warlander.
Her social experience is limited to her mother, brother, and the women of the Jungle, but that does not show the young filly’s expression. She looks equally pleased and smiles freely at everyone she passes. Eventually she settles down beside the slow moving river, having chosen it as an acceptable place to wait and see if anyone wants to talk with her. She greets every passerby with a hello in the hopes that one might slow to chat, but is not disheartened when a few do pass on by.
ephrelle
of the amazons