Post by Apollo on May 18, 2006 14:25:43 GMT -5
Eh. Why not.
Apollo
[/u]Apollo
Ivory form moved silently across the terrain. His limbs moving him in a slow, steady walk. So, here he was-without anyone else around. He was a rogue, but soon...he would throw someone from their throne. Don't take it the wrong way. He really hated separating herds and breaking families, but it had to be done. Life was that way. Stopping the stallion raised his cranium and sighed deeply. Eyelids pulled over his crystal, blue voids.
Thoughts rang silently through his head. Did he really have a purpose to walk this soil? Well...he had no family, no herd, no one special to protect, no friends. So, you could say he had no purpose. But...he would create a purpose. He would create a herd, one to rival his father's herd. Opening his sky hued voids the stallion looked across the land.
The wind started to run across the land and pulled at his locks, whipping them across his face. They flowed harmoniously, like waves of white water. Quite suddenly the wind grew bored and released his mane, letting it fall back, silent across his boa. Forelock fell neatly between his voids, stray strands covered his voids blocking some of his vision. Pivoting the stallion walked off and tossed his cranium. Locks disturbed flew for a second then fell back silent. Snorting the stallion stopped and back up, tensing his back legs. Bringing up his bodice the stud half-reared and leaped, hoof hitting hard. Limbs struck out mightily, becoming blurs as his pace quickened. His mane flew out and whipped wildly against the coming wind. His whipcord flowed straight out behind him like a banner. The sound of hooves echoed across the land, harmonizing into one another. Tossing his cranium while running the stallion brought down his forelegs and raised his rear limbs in a playful buck. Still the thought remained. Did he have a Purpose?
A tree suddenly came into his view as he had been thinking deeply. Stopping his run the stallion dug his flints into the soil and skidded to a halt. Still he had been going to fast and managed to turn to his side. His shoulder slammed into the tree and pain shot through his shoulder. Closing his voids the stag awaited for the pain to pass. Soon it passed and the stallion stepped away from the redwood and looked down at his shoulder. It was fine. Soon a smile played across his muggings and he chuckled softly to himself.
After laughing at himself for fearing a 'scary tree' the stallion had stood beneath the tree and had lowered his boa and raised one of his back flints so the tip was dug into to soil. Eyelids flicked lazily over his sky tinted orbs as he started to leave this world and go into the one of dreams and darkness. Whipcord flicked at his barrel and hindquarters, flicking away the flys. He was content. Maybe...Life Was okay...For Once.[/color][/i][/center]