i live m y life -- adjoin with the forces

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Date Posted: 11:09:17 09/29/02 Sun
Author: C l a u s t r o p h o b i c
Subject: i live m y life

i live m y life
a t h o u s a n d miles a time
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ashen zillas quivered restlessly over the marshland. the soft padding of hoofs bleating over the soggy grass could be heard faintly, as if the breeze was calling to them. it had a tune, melancholy and soft, it went in rythym with the cerulean seas. it was gullshore. many had looked down upon them, but in truth they were the strongest harem of all. they had pulled through all the deaths that had tossed them into the pool of despair. the others had tried to fathom their determination to suceed, they had all tried to rip away our united chain. they though us strong, a enemy to be aware of. in justice, that is their feelings.
Nape is held tensed, muscles gently ripple beneath hide. The scarlet arabian shuffled forth, stumbling slightly as he approached the unusual xanthippe. Arrogance? Claustrophobic was arrogance, arrogance and insanity. He had kissed his sanity away, and tossed it onto the boat that capsized. As for arrogance, true he held it. Mayhap he should be called arrogance instead of his own petty curse, eh? And dignity. He held that too. He would carry his head high with praise, he cared not of what the others thought. Self-centered. Another trait he carried. Only himself, only himself. Call it whatever you want, missy. I did not come here to get 'character' training from you. I only came because I needed history lessons, with a bit of warrior mixed in. I am who I am, don't like it? Go to hell. I've been there twice and back, t'aint as bad as you think.

Tapered visage is tossed, freeing chasms from the scarlet tiara that clotted his sight. He was a malfunction, born with a blind eye (yeah, i know i said lung before lol). It was natural, to him, yet part of a drag having to toss your whole head to get a clear image of something. His good eye was a clear coffee. His bad one was a clouded blue. No matter of the birth problem, he was beautiful. Arabian carved face, with a white streak running through. Clean, chestnut pelt with the exception of a few mocking scars, dings and dangs. He had a white sock, tresses held high. He was short, reaching a meager 14 hands high, yet he held speed. It would prove a valuable asset in the future, yes indeed.

Flints gnaw at the craggy surface of the terrain. Countenance is held low, the brujo halted in the midst of silence. It was a devious day, the sun beat down on the unsespecting equines, screaming its shrill wrath. Many of the elders went to the ocean to spray themselves with the cool water, a good idea no doubt. Thin tresses wisp at the irksome bugs, mucus membranes flutter inhaling deeply the aroma that fluttered around. Visage is tossed, turning coffee pool to stare at the ignoble.

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cursed
claustrophobic

summers
six

lineage
hush x cera

email
hurliegurlie426@yahoo.com

alias
blue

password
waddle

ooc; its an old post, its like 3 am here g2g!

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Replies:

.r i v e n halo. -- .r o g u e., 13:30:46 09/29/02 Sun