Post by Irc on Mar 7, 2012 13:21:46 GMT -5
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[atrb=width,500] Life Is Like a Boat I am of the black pelted kind and with clarity and kindness does hold close in my amber eyes that observe the world from above the clouds. Of dainty height yes, I stand at a mere 15hh. But what is the measure of one’s self to a Pegasus? For I can reach heights unknown to most, with the beat of my feathery white wings, that do soar and swoop. It all seems so sad, yes so sad my face seems, with the thinnest of marks I do forever look like a crying child who has lost his beloved mother dear. Only the fools believe this facade. Fire and ice, good and bad, hot and cold, black and white is my thick mane and tail.
We are all rowing the boat of fate Like the roots that hold that old oak tree secure I am a patient soul for those who are worth the time, my loyalty to my friends sits at the core of my being. Approach with ease I am not one to intimidate you and I respect all personal secrets. Be warned however; do not seek to anger me, my tolerance doesn’t stretch infinitely. If you perchance to have something shiny in your possession please let see, for all shiny objects and beings should be observed with appreciative eyes.
The waves keep on coming and we can't escape Family? Many of hoof and wing speak of lost kin, mates who have fallen into death’s hands and some who have just disappeared. My story is no different from these, I hail from a plain looking land, a son of a plain looking family. Non-descript for lack of a better word, nothing much happened until the humans began to taint the land we flew on. As to keep our precious breed from unforgiving eyes, we ran. Somewhere along the way I was lost and Helovia called mine name.
But if we ever get lost on our way - Greeted in the Threshold by Pegasus' Cassiopeia & Khrysor and was told about the Tuuli group. - Attended Tuuli 'Town Hall' meeting To Be Continued...
The waves would guide you through another day My body has turned to that of pure white, like a small flake drifting through the sky I soar on the winds ever changing currents. A black beak is the last of what remains of my dark hoof hide, significantly smaller in size and harder to spot in a blizzard. My form is often seen in black and picking off the remains of others. Nay! I am not these vermin, I am errand born an innocent messenger for your mail service.
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