*Walking in, a huge black clydesdale mare, on her back a 15 year old girl. By the looks of her she is a peasant, nothing of importance. Feather's from her cloak fall out, but you cast it off as chicken feathers.* -- --crossroads

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Subject: *Walking in, a huge black clydesdale mare, on her back a 15 year old girl. By the looks of her she is a peasant, nothing of importance. Feather's from her cloak fall out, but you cast it off as chicken feathers.*

Author:
Mercedes Angeles and Milagro

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Date Posted: 19:08:06 03/07/01 Wed

*She stops at the river side. Dismounting and letting the mare go free, knowing that she would not wander far. She bent down and looked at her reflection, wrinkling her nose at her dirty face. She cups some water with her hands and washes her face, then proceeds to wash her arms and legs. She took a peice of cloth that was tied to the rope around her mare's neck and soaked it, then began to rub down the black. Satisfied she removed her tattered and worn cloak, setting it on the back of the clydesdale. A soft light envelops her and wide winds emerge from her back. She looks at them, they too are tattered and ugly to sight. She touches them softly, taking the rag and wetting it again. Trying to clean the various sores on her once beautiful wings. Sighing heavily, knowing they would never be as clean, she folded them. She looked around, dragging some fallen pine branchs she makes a makeshift bed. Laying down she brings her bare legs up to her chest. Stretching her wings to cover her body.. She shivers dispite the wings for many feathers are missing...The mare grazes nearby, nickering quietly to the girl and laying down beside her... helping keeping her warm.*

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