he laid low the warriors of old
The world is still bright and a beautiful place through the eyes of the once-spotted horse. In some ways it had been a blessing to be born, ignorant of the world in its mixed ways of beauty and disaster. As a young colt, he had been born with a clean slate, a past that did not hold him down or obligations to keep him on one place. The world is his and always would be.
However, there had been circumstances that shaped and ripped at his blank canvas—creating a masterpiece, not yet, and maybe never, a disaster. As for Rome, he had been one of the lucky ones (or so he has not yet figured out). He has yet to find anything in this world to crush his childlike mindset. There still, and might always be, a purity that disappears often when you grow up. But for Rome, it was a different story. He looked at the world with a different idea—a mindset that he might never lose his innocent curiosity of the world and all that it entails.
Rome did not fret when the world took away his ocelot features. Instead, he was quite pleased with his new set of wings and strange set of hooves that replaced his paws. His new physical features had been daunting at first but Rome made sure to make the best of it. He found it he enjoyed the feel of the hooves, but thought little of missing his paws. Maybe one day he would be able to run on his paws and be the fastest horse again. As for his wings, well, he hasn’t quite figured them out—maybe in time he might.
The dense forest is often a place he has gone and visited during his childhood, so it is not out of his character to be found here. Rome is glad to find the forest outside of the meadow has not changed since the mountain came. In fact, it meant more than anything to him to know this. There is a very favorite spot of his here in the forest (somewhere close to the meadow) where once a beautiful flower grew and stood tall with life—it reminds him of Eight.
So, he finds himself in that spot today, the winter days are fading into spring. Rome can feel that this afternoon will be warmer than the other passing days. The flowers and greenery around him are blossoming with color and life. He can smell the fragrance of the coming season—spring was almost here. Rome smiles at that fact now—spring coming in just a few short days—as he stares at a pink flower just below his front legs. His muzzle is almost touching the very petals of the flower, and he ruffles his wings in excitement. However, he would’ve liked to see the same flower Eight had made come to life that one day but Rome knows this flower would just have to settle for now. He has always been easy to please and enjoy the simplest of things.
However, there had been circumstances that shaped and ripped at his blank canvas—creating a masterpiece, not yet, and maybe never, a disaster. As for Rome, he had been one of the lucky ones (or so he has not yet figured out). He has yet to find anything in this world to crush his childlike mindset. There still, and might always be, a purity that disappears often when you grow up. But for Rome, it was a different story. He looked at the world with a different idea—a mindset that he might never lose his innocent curiosity of the world and all that it entails.
Rome did not fret when the world took away his ocelot features. Instead, he was quite pleased with his new set of wings and strange set of hooves that replaced his paws. His new physical features had been daunting at first but Rome made sure to make the best of it. He found it he enjoyed the feel of the hooves, but thought little of missing his paws. Maybe one day he would be able to run on his paws and be the fastest horse again. As for his wings, well, he hasn’t quite figured them out—maybe in time he might.
The dense forest is often a place he has gone and visited during his childhood, so it is not out of his character to be found here. Rome is glad to find the forest outside of the meadow has not changed since the mountain came. In fact, it meant more than anything to him to know this. There is a very favorite spot of his here in the forest (somewhere close to the meadow) where once a beautiful flower grew and stood tall with life—it reminds him of Eight.
So, he finds himself in that spot today, the winter days are fading into spring. Rome can feel that this afternoon will be warmer than the other passing days. The flowers and greenery around him are blossoming with color and life. He can smell the fragrance of the coming season—spring was almost here. Rome smiles at that fact now—spring coming in just a few short days—as he stares at a pink flower just below his front legs. His muzzle is almost touching the very petals of the flower, and he ruffles his wings in excitement. However, he would’ve liked to see the same flower Eight had made come to life that one day but Rome knows this flower would just have to settle for now. He has always been easy to please and enjoy the simplest of things.
ROME
tarnished x lucrezia
@[Kristin]