Broken Wings, Broken Dreams |Open|

['Scape-Monster]

Silas

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Broken wings can not allow one to fly, and broken dreams are the same way. A broken soul, at a broken time, in a broken way, with a broken rhyme. It is not the way that the heart beats, for the wings of the believer flutters in tune. Its not the batting of sooty lashes, nor is it the crashing of mist to the floor. But yet it is all these things combined in one entity, and one entity alone. Bred for lithe speed, and a healthy heart for the gallop, the Stallion stands stationary, though one can hardly see a reason for it to be. The white body of the beast is marred by the scars of old tales that will not be told to any passing audits. Folded tight against this warm mass, is a feathery extremity that brings height to the light bones of the creature. Aye, The Equine is a Pegasi, and one with history, at that matter. But it is no such time for the riddles and rhymes that such a story posses. For at the moment, the being is quiet, muscles relaxed, and a light mist falling delicatley onto the white coat.

The pale flaxen forelock is twisted to either side of the cranium, wraping around the soft auds at the top of the skull. Dark brown black orbs stare knowingly out at the fall of water. The delicate auds twitch with the thundering of the liquid falling down to earth. Falling... Like a fallen angel, or a fall bird... A fallen Pegasi. His stooted nares flare with the memory that courses through him. His haunches tighten, the black scars there rippling. The soft flesh is still weak from the torn muscles, but one can see that he is trying to rebuild them. But this is not where the stallion's mind is at the moment. Oh, no. His mind is on the past, an event that had been repeated may times over in his life before he grew the strength to run from it. But then, oh back then, he was still so young, so Naieve to the world around him. The Stallion snorts softly, the smells of the water disapearing as his mind sucks him back into that memory like a vice, holding on to his every being and forcing him to relive those brutal moments of his childhood...

The vixen cared not for his saftly, and not for what others thought of her, for she believed that she ruled the land she walked upon. She had an air of instanity about her, and insane she must have been, for her Son was also her lover, but that was not until the years after. He had no choice in the matter, for he was raised to believe that she was the only thing that mattered in the world, and that she was to be followed. At the moment, the white body of his young self tensed as the blood dripped down his spindly pillars. He was just yet to be a year old. He was disproportionate, his head large, his audits larger, still. But his bodice was sculpted small, and his lungs could only take so much air before he would have to pull in another load of the sweet, life-giving oxygen. But that was not what he was thinking about, no. The young child was focused on nothing more than the pain; the searing pain in his haunches. His short banner flicked silently, trying to rid him of the red stains that latered his coat.

The vixen nipped at him again and he let the muscles fall still. He did not want to be harmed any further than he already was. He knew better than to provoke the femme more than she already was. Satisfied that the boy has served his purpose as her whipping post, she crooned softly to him. A sweet mealody that blanketed the true evil nature; the true insanity that stole her heart years ago and still kept a tight grip in the time of the now...

He had not realized it until the memory faded, But the coat of the Stallion was damp and quivering, and not just from the cold touch of the mist that was settling upon him. He inhaled deeply, his bodice shivering with the seemingly sudden effort. His mind still believed that he was that defenseless child. But no, the Stallion knew better, and he was not the kind to tolerate this weakness at a moment such as now. The quiet calmed him, and for that he was greatful. But too much inactivity made one weak, and so he started at a slow walk, his daggers making a careful way along the slippery stones, his wings, now fully grown in size, slightly extended to the sides of him to keep his balance. He tilted his cranium forward, auds moving to face the same dirrection as his liquid orbs. His lashes batted, maring the windows for a fraction of a second, though it did not hinder his movements.

The Stallion's Flaxen banner tapped his scarred rump. the black lines were a reminder to the Pegasi, a reminder that you are only as strong as your weaknesses. Back then, everything was a weakness for him. When he was given those scars he did not know how to take his life into his own heart. But now he knew. Now the white beast knew what to do with his lightened frame. He knew what he could do with his heart, if he ever wanted to give it away. But the latter would come at a later time, even for a Thoroughbred of five springs. He was a strong beast, and that could not be denied, though, down on the ground, he was not as skilled with his daggers. In the sky, ah yes.. the sky... the feeling of the wind beneath him, the air above him and rushign through his mane, his banner streaming out behind him. Yes, that feeling of freedom and mobility. But he brought his attentions to the now yet again. On the ground, he did not have the advantage, and he was not going to give another the chance to catch him off his gaurd.

The Stallion ceased in his movents, bringing his cranium up on his boa, the flaxen locks slithering down his poerful shoulders. The delicate audits at the top of his skull swivled, listening for the sound of any being that dared approach him. And as such, he tuned the sound of the falls to the back of his mind, and his nares flared, ready for the invitation of another equine. He would not admit it to himself, but the beast was lonely, and he nedded a companion. One that he could trust, perhaps, in time, even come to call a mate, or love, if the new-comer be of female origins.

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Word Count: 1,152
Muse: Its there, getting better
Notes: Anyone who wants to try him out, have a little fun messing with my Silas! ^.^

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[xXSarcasticXx]

H A P P I N E S S

Happiness. Such a distant emotion: Always over the next hurdle, always just across this lake of burdens, always just far enough away, to never really be felt. The truth is that happiness is not a state of being, though many believe it to be. It is a state of mind. You cannot ever be happy just because you are in a ‘perfect’ place in your life. You aren’t happy; you just act like, and wish you are. It’s true that everyone strives to be happy, though you must first learn to accept yourself, and accept others before you can take this step into contentment.

There seemed to be a light on inside of her. A light of beauty, grace, and purity. She seems to glow with calm understanding. An Angel that has fallen to earth, some say. She walks regally and with no sense of criticism, though she does take you in, grade and judge to see if she should grant you her time. Strong and silent, yet loud and weak, she’ll stand before you. This equine, this femme, this white ghost, this brilliant angel; she’s a mix of contradictions, a mess, a mystery, yet perfectly aware, and accepting of her every cell, every quality, and every hitch. She relishes herself, good or bad, and knows that no one is perfect. She has found the secret to happiness, and boy, is she delighted.

She doesn’t need your approval, she doesn’t need you to come courting. She knows who she is, and she loves herself for it. So take a step back and see her, really see her. Pure crème wings a-flyin’, slender pillars tucked up to her tight, muscled bodice and a fine head. You wanna criticize, go ahead, because you won’t slow her down, you won’t crush her, you won’t break her, and you won’t take her down. ‘Cause, damn she’s flyin’.

She doesn’t dream, she only knows. She doesn’t have questions, only answers. She doesn’t cry, only laugh. She doesn’t hate, only love. She doesn’t slow down, only speed up. She doesn’t chase, only gets caught. She doesn’t do anything, only everything.

Have you kept up? Good.

Sloai’s feathers separated, to let the air flow through them, as she drifted lazily to the ground. Her lips open and vibrate as a deep sigh leaves her. She tucked her wings into her slender sides, her long legs, undaunted by the crashing sound of the roaring waterfalls, step towards them at a light trot. Her nares flare opening wide as she scents another equine on the breeze. Her hooves dance, in a staccato rhythm against the rock as she decides what to do with this information. Arching her neck, and prancing Arabian style towards the fast flowing water, she waits to see if this stallion would approach her. Her head tilts as she comes into view of the beautiful tumbling of the waterfall. She stands, transfixed for a moment, before breaking out of it, with a quick toss of her delicate cranium.

The water is a light blue, bubbling up to a frothy white, as the water churns ever-constantly next to the slate-grey of the misshapen boulders. The water deepens the further down the river you travel, as does the shade of blue. She is fervently grateful that she does not have to swim across the pounding water, instead having the grace to fly the turbulent winds above it.

Her bright, unique aqua optic pools take in the sight for a moment more before she steps back, away from the precipice that drops off into the outsized waterfall. She snorts, clearing her nares before lifting her proud head and shivering. Her skin was a-twitchin’ because it was a cool winter day, cold enough that she could see her breath when she exhaled.

I wonder who this male is… If he will be of any interest to me… The probability is that he will, since I do find individuals- especially those that chose to live on the outskirts, fascinating. Though I will wait for him here. I don’t want to disrupt his territory.

To be truthful, Sloai wasn’t at all worried. She didn’t think he would hurt her in any way, she could after all, just fly away and promise never to return. Though she doubted that their meeting would have such an unwanted, unwarranted outcome. Her weight shifted as she let her left legs lay idle, taking her bulk of her mass in her three remaining pillars. Her eyes drifted closed, and she prickled her ears, waiting for the tell-a-tale clues that the stallion was coming to greet her. She continued to inhale and exhale in a relaxed, open manner, taking in, and organizing the information gathered by one of her most valuable tools.

After a few moments, her entire body relaxed the glint of her pure white coat an exclamation mark, added to her arrival.

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Word Count: Approx 820
Muse: Actually dead. This ^^ (and it’s not even that good) took forever.
Comment: Just have fun with her. I want to see where this leads.

['Scape-Monster]

Silas

I heard something upon the breeze, the sound of another pair of wings, the faint rush of air through the feathers. I knew that sound well, for I heard it every day of my life on either side of my dial, taking it in through my audits. Yet this was a more delicate sound, the landing light and soft, loud and heavy, all contradictions in and of themselves. This confused me at first. Light and heavy? Loud and soft? I turned my head to look up on the beautiful female, watching her frame as she danced along the rocks of the waterfall. She seemed to watch me for a moment, perhaps waiting to see what my reaction would be to her being there. I shouldn't have much of a reaction, after all, this wasn't even my own territory. There was no reason for me to get all worked up. And even if it was my territory, I wouldn't have been too terrible to her about it, either. I wouldn't have done anything to her, yelled, cried out in heavy vocals to have her leave me. If she wanted to be here, than that was fine by me.

My maw pulled up into a soft smile, dipping my head towards her, telling her that if she wished, she could join me. The silent invitation would be all that I would give her for the moment, to let her decide if she wanted to spend this chilly afternoon with me, a scarred and marred stallion of the same brilliant white colour. My sooty nares, soft and appealed tried to take in her scent, but she was much too far away for me to capture anything, and the water would have masked it anyways, the sweet smell of the running liquid. It was much more full than usual, rushing away rapidly. One wrong slip and if you didn't get your balance right away or try to take off, you would be gone in a moment, that was for an absolute. I turned my face away from the water and looked again to the femme, watching her with my deep optics. I wanted her to come closer, though she was entirely welcome to stay as she was. After all, Like I mentioned before, this wasn't my territory to do with as I pleased. I was a visitor here, much like she was.

I ruffled my feathers, allowing them to feel the chill of the air around me, trying to rid myself of the water that had condensed on their surface from being around the misting falls for so long. I would have to stretch them again soon, I was sure. A flight would be a lovely idea, but I could take care of that later. Right now, I was curious as to what the mare would do with my invitation. The seconds ticked by as I waited, my thoughts drifting from one subject to another, trying as hard as I could not to return to the memory of my mother. Oh how I would hate to return to that memory. It would only make me miserable, and that would be no good. I wouldn't be a proper gentleman if I allowed my past anger to corrupt this meeting here. At the thought, my gentlemanly demeanor didn't allow me to keep openly gawking at the femme as I waited.

Embarrassed to a slight point that I had allowed myself to slip in this manner, I turned my dial away, audits still pricked to see if she would follow. In all, the wait had only been a few moments, a minute or two, maybe. But still, a minute or two of open staring was not allowed. not in my world, where respect reigned supreme. Respect for a female, most of all, no matter if she deserved it or not. She was a lady, and that was the fact. She deserved it no matter just for that. Granted, there had been a few that I had met that I felt didn't deserve it, but by gods I had given it. Why? They were a lady and they deserved it just for being that. Perhaps I was a little old fashioned in this way, but why not? I was strong enough to defend myself and my beliefs if I had to. I could defend any young mare as well, no matter what the cost. it was in my nature to do so, despite what my mother had raised me as.

Perhaps it was this that made me who I am. I was so driven to be the opposite of my mother that I had become the gentleman that I am today. The strong fighter that would never give in, that was for the better justice. A one of a kind equine superman if you want to put it that way. I was going to make sure that everyone that needed protection got it, and I was going to try my best to make that happen. My strength was well fought for, no weaknesses here. Weakness is separation as well. If one is not connected, then one is missing half of everything they need. At least, that's how that one goes in my book. If you aren't connected deeply with something then you have a weak link somewhere along the way. I knew that this was something that I was missing, and I knew that I needed to work on it. Maybe the mare could help me develop a connection with the rest of the world, or at least with one being so that I could stop being so weak. Weaknesses was not an option. You were fair to women and you were strong no matter the cost. That's my motto, and I stick with it with my life, no exceptions.

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Word Count: 972 Geh.. short, but okay, I guess.
Muse: Its okay, I guess
Notes: Wow... that totally rambled on and on at the end :/[/blockquote]