Post by x.Fresco.x on Feb 8, 2006 13:10:55 GMT -5
::The Lords call apon::
Fresco
::They Blessed me::
Masculine
::They painted me::
Grulla
::He lined me::
Mustang
::My Dealt Alliance::
Fire
::Standing At::
15 Hands
::Defide Years::
Five.
::You See me::
Unpredicatable, First he could be toying around with you, the next moment he'll be snapping your head off your neck. He can grow rather agressive if any of his mares are threatend. He is quite compassionate to females, and foals.
::Example Post::
The world was silent, and unforgiving at random moments. Though lustrous in appearance, the shape of the crescent features that had befallen the land could never take away the damage done a short time before entering his enchanted realm, alive and awakening to one's soul. Despite all this, there was always a loss, buried deep in the heartbeat of the child, tormenting him to all creation, and nothing could be done to stop it. There had been times where ones tried to pry, tried to delve into this truth that only hurt him more to speak of it, to think of it. They didn't understand. No one did. And he didn't want them too. It was his problem. His horror, his terror. No one else's. Why should he be the one to lay upon others this unremarkable..suffocating fixation of taunting proportions? It stifled his breathing as he marched with elegant steps in his own wayward glory, presiding in a matter of complete innocence and reflection, beholding some power and reformed beauty, only to find that deep within his hazardous heartbeats..it thrived.
::Picture::
Fresco
::They Blessed me::
::They painted me::
Grulla
::He lined me::
Mustang
::My Dealt Alliance::
::Standing At::
15 Hands
::Defide Years::
Five.
::You See me::
Unpredicatable, First he could be toying around with you, the next moment he'll be snapping your head off your neck. He can grow rather agressive if any of his mares are threatend. He is quite compassionate to females, and foals.
::Example Post::
The world was silent, and unforgiving at random moments. Though lustrous in appearance, the shape of the crescent features that had befallen the land could never take away the damage done a short time before entering his enchanted realm, alive and awakening to one's soul. Despite all this, there was always a loss, buried deep in the heartbeat of the child, tormenting him to all creation, and nothing could be done to stop it. There had been times where ones tried to pry, tried to delve into this truth that only hurt him more to speak of it, to think of it. They didn't understand. No one did. And he didn't want them too. It was his problem. His horror, his terror. No one else's. Why should he be the one to lay upon others this unremarkable..suffocating fixation of taunting proportions? It stifled his breathing as he marched with elegant steps in his own wayward glory, presiding in a matter of complete innocence and reflection, beholding some power and reformed beauty, only to find that deep within his hazardous heartbeats..it thrived.
::Picture::
