12-23-2017, 12:34 PM
camlin
It's always the same, I'm running towards nothing again
He is a moon child in a flood of sunlight. The dark haired boy walks through the forest with open green eyes. It had seemed as though he had not been surrounded by the tall trees in so long. The floor of the land lay blanketed in gold and reds, he breathes in the must of the sleeping decay. The stallion walks slows and deliberately as he makes himself remember. Beqanna had gone through changes with painful growth spurts with each flood of insightful influx but the forest had always remained.
Camlin looks upward at the nearly exposed sky. In the times of summer, it would be a green canvas dotted with peeking sun rays but now as the world lays her head down for sleep, Camlin watches with a small smile flickering across his features.
He does seem to notice, waking him from his daydream, a woman's musk mingling with the cedar and sandalwood. The emerald eyed man finds a woman not far from him...a pale wisps moving between the ash brown of dormant trees. "Hello there." His voice is low, a baritone rumble across the cradle of silence that is the forest floor. Camlin attempts to offer a smile but it only manages to tug crookedly over his lips so he allows it to slip from his expression.
Camlin is grateful now for the moonlight creeps through the naked trees to illuminate the mare and the porcelain parts of himself. He attempts to not frighten her but simply expose himself to a potential conversation if she should chose too. It was a chilly night but the length of his growing coat does well to keep him warm. "I'm Camlin." His name is encased a small frozen cloud as it leaves his lips, listening for the mare's own reply, if she gave one.
Camlin looks upward at the nearly exposed sky. In the times of summer, it would be a green canvas dotted with peeking sun rays but now as the world lays her head down for sleep, Camlin watches with a small smile flickering across his features.
He does seem to notice, waking him from his daydream, a woman's musk mingling with the cedar and sandalwood. The emerald eyed man finds a woman not far from him...a pale wisps moving between the ash brown of dormant trees. "Hello there." His voice is low, a baritone rumble across the cradle of silence that is the forest floor. Camlin attempts to offer a smile but it only manages to tug crookedly over his lips so he allows it to slip from his expression.
Camlin is grateful now for the moonlight creeps through the naked trees to illuminate the mare and the porcelain parts of himself. He attempts to not frighten her but simply expose himself to a potential conversation if she should chose too. It was a chilly night but the length of his growing coat does well to keep him warm. "I'm Camlin." His name is encased a small frozen cloud as it leaves his lips, listening for the mare's own reply, if she gave one.