+crest rises like moon after sun in lord's presence+ -- Royal Lands

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Date Posted: 16:31:11 02/20/02 Wed
Author: Intrepid
Subject: +crest rises like moon after sun in lord's presence+
In reply to: �lack Thunder 's message, "� trepidation �" on 16:11:58 02/20/02 Wed

The elegant roan's tousled tresses cascade her neck, and her thick tail brushes her hocks without fanfare. She steps closer in a shimmering silence, and behind her bold obsidian oculurs' ambitious prose she sees soft plays on the shadows. Lighting brushes her mind roughly and she dips her crest in greeting to the ebony standing before her. Her dark eyes trace the patterns of the the grass in her respect, and then she meets his gaze evenly in her unflaunted confidence. Calling softly, she extends her muzzle, perhaps he would consider her in his search for broodmares.

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[> [> Infernal -- �ucifer's �ust , 17:18:54 02/20/02 Wed

Vixen o' raven hue espials brute with orbs lost in thought. Visage slightly lowers and muzzle extends t'wards brute in affection for brute. Call is emitted from larynx as tresses of midnight hues are caressed by gentle zephyr.

(ooc: sorry me is sad right now and i don't feel like being evil or ne thing)

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[> [> [> [.one slip is all it takes.] -- [:.knife edge.:], 17:38:05 02/20/02 Wed

[.beast observes silently..concealed within shadowed depths..oculars brooding..dark.]

wow...that was officially the crappiest post of my career...newho...he's a stally and has nothing to post ^..^
lol
Bunnie
Dun mess with the Bunnie..this one's a bad rabbit

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[> [> [> [> Tormenting -- Tommorows Torment, 18:05:32 02/20/02 Wed

Visage is raised from grazing positon at the enterance of the lord, dubbed thee 'Black Thunder'.

The v'xen knows that she is to low to ever even hope that the steed would pick herself.

The femme stamps black dagger in thought, not in dominance and goes back to grazing, lobes flat agianst skull. Femme 'Twas not in a good mood.

Though the femme is trying to forget the anoucment by the lord, her flaming orbs can't help but wander back to the small ring that runs 'round him. She stays back, for even a fool could see, that it 'Twas not her chance to be, chosen.

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[> [> [> [> [> .mimic. -- Mime, 18:21:17 02/20/02 Wed

.torrent of winds. hushed silence. listen closely.

lamia sets gaze pon brute, mug lowered in mute respects. Season would be upon she soon, though for now she simply prepared. Stoned figure remains still, lappets flicker 'top skull.

.trapped in an invisible box, yet maybe simply invisible to you.

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