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| Last call for love } | |||||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 18 2015, 08:15 PM (141 Views) | |||||
| Bibliobibuli | Aug 18 2015, 08:15 PM Post #1 | ||||
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| ƒierce | Aug 19 2015, 03:02 PM Post #2 | ||||
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
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![]() [justify=600] The nearly seventeen year-old stallion could not remember the last time he had been to Homeless. It had only been with Magdalena in mind that he even dared trying to woo another mare, to get another horse living in Holy Track. He would never think himself a smooth talker or a ladies man. There had been a day for that, and it would have been many years ago. Most of his mares had disappeared, scattered to the four winds. He didn't know why, and Thames had been alone since then. Until Magdalena had come. She was his granddaughter from Judah, his eldest son, who had passed within the past few years. It had been a wonderful surprise to meet her, but oh so hard to see her. She looked so much like her father. She had her own child in tow, a chestnut roan colt called Ristian. He was a handsome lad with stripes on his pelt, showing the rich chestnut beneath them. A sigh parts his dove lips, turning his head and forehand toward the inner parts of the island. He supposed that he would give this a go since he was already here. It wasn't that he was an unattractive stallion. In fact, he was quite handsome. His pelt a pale gray color riddled with rose gray brindling. Fine-boned and graceful look of his Arabian ancestors, but with the heavier build more like a Quarter Horse. He snorted tossing his head slightly, gray forelock in the way of his bright blue eyes. He was a kind and loving stallion, protective of those he cares about. Easy-going, honest, all together good-natured. It was a wonder that any mare had turned him down or left him. When his blue eyes finally fall on a mare, he is relieved. She looks a little older, much like himself. and Thames was glad that he wasn't the only one his age looking for someone to care about or for someone to care about him. She had lived a life before this, and he wanted to get to know her. A nicker parts his gray lips, letting her know he as there. As he approaches, Thames gives the painted female a kind smile when she finally looks at him. "Hello." He nods to her politely. "My name is Thames." "I'd like to get to know you, if that's alright." [/justify] |
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| Bibliobibuli | Sep 2 2015, 10:12 PM Post #3 | ||||
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She wasn't used to feeling so exposed. It had been so long since she even considered herself marketable. She was a homemaker and a mother. Her coat wasn't prestine, her figure wasn't perfect as the recent heartache and stress ate away at most of her curves, and she was abnormally tall for a mare. Medae did her best to not let her mismatched eyes wander too much because it would surely dampen her mood to further realize how uninteresting she was in comparison to the beauty that was pumped into the exterior of all the youth today. It was cliche but her inner beauty was worth what her exterior lacked. Such self doubt would make one think that she was hideous, when in retrospect she was just a shattered beauty. His bicker caught her off guard, but as she had trained herself to do she didn't flinch. Ears swivel to direct her attention to him. Her Rhone was quite the looker in regards to coat pattern, and she would always hold his memory near, and this stallion didn't fall short of a striking coat. Though there was something about him and how he carried himself that didn't make her insecurities fester any further, she could tell he had done this a few times before and had some seasons under his belt like she did. His blue eyes did the trick at holding her attention when he began to talk, a slight smile fleeted the corner of her lips as he invited her to speak. "Hello Thames, I am Medae." her head was held a little taller with just the recognition that she was no longer alone. " I see no harm in getting to know one another. Though I hold no grand story Ill try not to disappoint." A soft breath was taken as she embraced the feeling of having company, she almost forgot what her own voice sounded like. "I'm certain a stallion such as yourself has a home to speak of to humor a humble mare like myself." it had been a while since the paint had a home, the years she spent in channel bank waiting for her love that wouldn't return raising her fragile daughter was not a home, it was something she missed dearly. |
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| ƒierce | Sep 11 2015, 05:41 PM Post #4 | ||||
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
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![]() [justify=600] She called herself Medae, and she did seem willing to talk. Thames straightened himself up a little. His dove lips twist into a smile upon hearing that she "had no grand story." A warm chuckle rumbles in his throat. "I don't have a 'grand story' either. So, I don't think either of us will be up to disappoint. His weight shifts, Prime lending the rose in his brindling a little more color. "I have a home, yes. Holy Track." Thames paused, thinking of the beauty he saw in the land. It had come close to dying and then been reborn, twice. "I've never known another land to be as everlasting." He resigned himself to a few moments' silence before looking to her. He wanted to get to know her. "What about you, Medae? Where are you from?" [/justify] |
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9:15 AM Jul 11