VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, [3], 4 ]
Subject: - It's a Thousand Miles to the Shore-


Author:
Usio & Senri
 		[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]
Date Posted: 20:52:56 06/04/05 Sat
In reply to: Untamed Desert 's message, "..Untouched...Untamed.." on 12:08:02 06/03/05 Fri

Senri:

He placed a hand on the fellow’s back, nodding off toward the stallion, showing he wasn’t interested and he was allowing him to take him. He let go, before curling his hands into his pockets, whistling beneath his breath: horses weren’t worth competition, or even bothering to try. He shrugged his shoulders to himself, looking over to where Usio was “conversing” with the obsidian filly: not a bad choice, but why in the heck was she going for another female?? They had already a couple of fine mares back at the stables. God. Not another..



Usio:

The girl chuckled to herself: so much like Haine’s defiant, but playful spirit. It was like fire lapping against a frozen icicle, licking her, not destroying yet, but bringing warmth. Silently, seeing that the Handler was approaching, she gestured with an elegant flourish with one, French-manicured finger toward the black filly, before her cold voice, icy, surfaces. “I’ll take her.” Each syllable is cold, vivid, a jewel clattering against the ground, yet it was soothing as well, like a cold water falling over smooth rocks down the river. She ignored the questioning looks, before reaching into her white jacket, fumbling for a moment.

Taking out a Gucci ® wallet, her fingers, despite her cold frame, fumble to touch the black zipper, before opening it, and she held up three thousand dollars for the handler, the dealer to see, and tilted her head in a question, her silver hair falling over her sophisticated face, as if to say, “Hey, is this enough or do you need more?” And to further emphasize, she thumbs up another thousand, un caring about the stares she was getting: she was handling immense amounts of money as if they were pennies. However, her eyes, though void of emotion, had a light spark against the edges, where her long lashes framed her almond digits. Interest, and at the same time, sort of challenging: no one can tell why. She does not speak any more: she does not find a need to.


(ACK! I’m SO SORRY! This is so short… argh. I’ll try to make in lengthier next time.)
[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:
Subject Author Date
..Even The Prettiest of Roses Have Thorns..Arai Bara21:11:21 06/04/05 Sat

[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.