08-18-2019, 03:31 PM
The antlered stallion consumes her attention, something about him more fantastical than the other horses around her, something about his manner and the dreaming purple eyes that reaches out and plucks at her. Popinjay is not these things, she is not delicate and somber and beautiful, and she has not seen anyone like him before. She wants to touch him, on purpose, not because she is lurching and blind, and so when, instead, Lethy makes to usher her away, she balks, thrusting her hooves ahead of her so the tips break the soil underneath and brace against the golden mare’s greater weight. It’s a useless ploy, as Lethy walks forward Popinjay’s back legs are lifted off the ground for a moment until she is forced to jump forward with a snort.
Aten’s words don’t comfort her, and she, childishly, perhaps, is unconcerned about whether the other Taigan youth would enjoy a magic show later. A tantrum is brewing, raw in her throat, and she spins around, facing Lethy with pinned ears and flashing eyes, a petulant frown emblazoned on her face. It lasts a second, half a second, because as soon as it begins she is startled out of it by a golden butterfly landing on her nose, trailing a shimmering, gold, dust made of light. Her mood shifts as abruptly as before, nose lifting as the ever so slightly translucent insect drifts deftly away into the air, and she rears up as though to follow it, forelegs tucked tight and walking, goat-like, on her hind legs until it is gone.
Her anger is forgotten, but Popinjay comes to earth again with a duck and a spin, charging around Lethy and Owin, skirting past Aten, her small hooves kicking up mulch and seed-cones until she is again beside Aegean, before him, thrusting the black of her muzzle towards him with a high nicker, then a squeal, and she, too, is gone, racing away ahead of Lethy and Owin.
Aten’s words don’t comfort her, and she, childishly, perhaps, is unconcerned about whether the other Taigan youth would enjoy a magic show later. A tantrum is brewing, raw in her throat, and she spins around, facing Lethy with pinned ears and flashing eyes, a petulant frown emblazoned on her face. It lasts a second, half a second, because as soon as it begins she is startled out of it by a golden butterfly landing on her nose, trailing a shimmering, gold, dust made of light. Her mood shifts as abruptly as before, nose lifting as the ever so slightly translucent insect drifts deftly away into the air, and she rears up as though to follow it, forelegs tucked tight and walking, goat-like, on her hind legs until it is gone.
Her anger is forgotten, but Popinjay comes to earth again with a duck and a spin, charging around Lethy and Owin, skirting past Aten, her small hooves kicking up mulch and seed-cones until she is again beside Aegean, before him, thrusting the black of her muzzle towards him with a high nicker, then a squeal, and she, too, is gone, racing away ahead of Lethy and Owin.
Popinjay
She was not quite what you would call refined
Nobody mind popinjay who is running away so she can go level up into a yearling XD
