|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Jul 21, 2010 4:49 pm
 The Sun was slung low in the sky, painting it orange, red, pink, and purple. Birds fluttered to and from preparing for the coming night, owls would wake up soon and begin there nightly prowl. The crickets sang there little song in the warmth of the evening promising to continue late into the night. Small insects dash across the lake still top, fish bobbed up creating little ripples.
Omutia was in her own terms trapped. She knew she was near the two-leggers village. She refused to near the place and be mistaken for one of their own mounts. She was done with that life and she would never carry one of the mean two-leggers again. She'd lived that life long enough she'd not gotten away just to get put back into it. She stomped her hoof against the soft ground near the lake waters edge. The other side of the lake was close to their village. She'd heard whispers about their village, some had even said they weren't too bad but she wouldn't let those whispers fool her. Her companion Squirrel Squirrel had left her when she left the forest so she had traveled alone. She'd come through the clearing along the mountainside and she wanted to get back to the forest but she would not near the village. She had to figure out what way she would travel. She didn't want to return the way she came but she was uncertain about nearing the village.
Omutia edged into the calm lake and lapped up some of the warm water. Cool water was always the best but the sun had warmed up the lake through the course of the day. A cool drift of water fed the lake from a river the flowed from the mountains. All rivers flowed from the mountains it seemed save for the river that flowed from the lake to feed the ocean. The evening was still hot so Omutia edged further into the water. Her large war-horse frame allowed her to enter farther then the average sized mare. She no longer cared if she got her saddle wet because no one sat upon it save for Squirrel Squirrel who welcomed the cool wet saddle in the heat of the day. Her blanket strained to float above the water and as a result the corners rose up enough to touch the water surface, else wise only Omutia's thick neck and head rose above the waters surface. She would lay and wait, decided what she would do about the next leg in her traveling. Would she return the way she came or would she dare to skirt the village...
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 1:47 pm
With a grunt, Berk pulled himself out from the thick brush, grumbling still about how his saddle and bridle always got caught amoung the branches, still haunting him to this day, though it had been years since the flee he had made. Though he had failed to meet any others of his kind over those years, he was content with the pinch of loneliless, so long as he had his wild side back. He could do anything now, and that pleased his prideful self. However, things seemed to turn around as he looked around the familiar lake he normally journeyed to once awhile for a soak, or drink. There was a mare bathing in the calm, dyed waters, and somehow, so strangely familiar she looked. Berk racked at his head for any memory of a palamino mare in his past, but the heat had dulled his thoughts, and he gave up on trying to discover why this mare looked so familiar to him on his own. Instead, he trot over to the edge of the waters where she had entered, clearing his voice abit.
"Miss?" He yelled, stepping into the water abit, the warmth of the waters still cooler than his body, and thus letting him relax his tired hooves. "Hello?" He bellowed, trying to capture the mare's attention, slinking deeper into the water, caring not if the saddle got wet. Upon further inspection, Berk twitched his ears in curiosity at the mare, noticing she had a bridle on, just as he did. Again he tried to figure out some sort of connection he may have had with a palamino mare in his childhood, or during those dreary days he had been a mount, and failed once more to figure out who this mare was to him. Perhaps she was also an escaped mount as he was? He wondered to himself, an eyebrow raised as he waited for the mare to notice him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 11:02 pm
She could risk going through the village. She nodded to herself. She was big and she had a saddle, likely they’d figure she had an owner. At least that’s what she would hope… then a thought caught her. What if they thought she was a loss mare and locked her away to find her owner? She growled softly instantly infuriated at their ignorance. Her tail would have whipped back and forth were it not for the water it was surrounded by.
She was so caught in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized someone had approached where she was in the lake, till she heard a deep voice from the shore line. Omutia turned her head back to the shore to see a stallion partly in the water but in not too far in. He was large she was willing to say even larger then her cerynei friend and he was fairly big. He wore a bridle and a saddle oddly the same as hers even down to the blanket. It was quite a curious sight for her to see. He was a large breed of stallion, yes meant for work. She cocked her head to the side and moved to see the stallions profile better. He was a dapple grey color, a color typical among the other mounts; she wondered if he’d been a messenger mount like she had or if he’d been a mount for another reason. She fully turn herself about and neared the stallion. ”Hello.” She was more out of the water, her saddle was out of the water but it still lapped her legs.
Omutia shook her head and beads of water fell from her bridle softly splashing back into the lake. "I dare say you seem familiar." A small frown tugged at Omutia's feature as she thought about it. It was odd for him to seem familiar yet not be able to place him. She'd seen many others on her messenger route but even so she'd never payed much mind to them so why did this stallion seem familiar. It bothered her in a slight bit to feel like she'd met him before. Typically those that she felt she'd remembered were the ones that were not friendly unto her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
