holding out for a |hero| - open

[Dyzzie-doll]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,475,true][atrb=height,700,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/155m35e.png,true] the tiny filly lay in the mud in the corner of her pen, a thin, but soft rope tied around her neck to a stake in the center of the pen to keep her from crawling through the gaps in the fence. mud caked her too long limbs, half obscuring her odd coloring, on her lower limbs and belly, though the vibrant - two toned color was bright in the sun, her body reflecting gold, ivory, and copper, while her fluff of a mane and tail showed cream and white. her eyes were enchanting, a soft green-yellow that shined with a youthful innocence, and unnatural kindness. she lay comfortably in the mud, letting it cool her during the warmth of the day as her eyes closed, letting her rest. her pintaloosa markings were half hidden beneath the brown mess, the other half contrasting with the gold of her palomino pelt, and the copper from the chestnut version. she yawned, batting her eyes slowly, before cuddling up in the corner, the rope loose enough to let her move comfortable, though it grew taunt if she stuck her head out between the biting fence. A sudden crash had her jolting up, looking over to see a young mare slave, and a master that had crashed through her pen in an aggressive manner. instantly swahili squeezed her eyes shut, crushing the image out of her mind, even as the screams ate at her brain, and her heart, hearing the attack even though she didn't see it. Her tiny, frail body shook, trembling at the sounds as they seemed to intensify, the mare running, trying to get away, and suddenly another crash. Again her eyes slammed open as she scrambled to the back of her pen as the master accidentally trampled a corner of her cage before the mare was sufficiently punished and put in a new pen, none taking notice of her crumbled pen. Instinctively, swahili went to do the right thing, trotting slowly towards a master that had been watching, her tiny, baby voice squeaking out nervously, "E-eh, excuse me, m-master. . . b-but. the fight. it . . . broke part of my pen." she said, eyes blinking wide in an unusual innocence for a slave, as she nodded her head towards the hole, before returning to her position on the opposite side and laying down, her eyes closing once again, hoping this time she'd get some actual sleep. "WORDS" THOUGHTS

[tarnishedcopper]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true]

[atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png] "Speech." Psyche strode through the slave pens, his ears back slightly, though far from being pinned. He didn’t like the big crowds, and would rather they be smaller. He was more of an introvert, and far from it to like social gatherings, be them good, or bad, such as these slaves in their pens. The athletic stallion looked around, looking over the mares and stallions in each pen, saddened by the state of most of them. Blood, sweat, and mud mingled on many coats; while others were so covered in ropes and chains he could barely see their bodies. He shook his head subtly, earning glares from some keen eyed masters nearby. He bared his teeth, and a couple backed off, not willing to tangle with the loner master. Not all, however, and the brute knew he’d have to be careful about what he said around some masters. Few believed the slaves were actual beings, like he did, and even fewer believed they had feelings, and deserved to be treated with kindness and respect. The Akhal-Teke’s head jerked slightly when the sounds of fighting reached his ears, and he turned his head, eying the stallion, a master, going after a mare, punishing her. His ears pinned back, but he turned away, trudging onwards, elegant golden hued chestnut coat shining in the sunlight, making his coat look more gold than chestnut. He looked past the fight, and to the pen beside it, one side broken down in the ensuing struggle. But that was not what had caught his attention. It was the filly within, her coat covered in mud and the like, but he could still see hints of her wonderfully unique pintaloosa coat. Gold palomino, and copper chestnut. Psyche padded forward, skirting the fight, and standing off to the side, watching how she reacted to the fight, looking away, seeming to try to ignore it. Like he was. But the stallion wasn’t ignoring it, he knew it was there, knew what was happening, and knew he alone could do nothing to stop it. He looked down, feeling ashamed at his cowardice for saying nothing. The male heard the sound of fighting stop, and knew that the punishment had been administered. Which made him feel even worse. His elegant head lifted, standing proud despite the troubled look within his gaze. "E-eh, excuse me, m-master. . . b-but. The fight. it . . . broke part of my pen." He heard, and Psyche looked over immediately, realizing it was the pretty little filly that had caught his attention, her baby voice tiny, squeaking nervously. Her gaze was uncharacteristically innocent; something he knew was a true rarity. The fae then returned to her previous spot, curling up to the side, and he watched her, frowning in thought. He went over, staying on the outside of the pen so as not to seem threatening. ”There will be no need, little one. If you would like, you may come with me, away from all this violence and cruelty.” He said, lowering his voice towards the end, conscious of the other masters around, who would never spare a thought towards what the slaves wanted. Words: 527 Notes: ^_^ Muse: Good. Tune:

[Dyzzie-doll]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,475,true][atrb=height,700,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/155m35e.png,true] swahili watched, expression nervous as the fight slowly died down, the young filly standing still nervously, staring down at the broken piece of pen, hoping not to get in trouble, and eventually found a master, one who didn't look nearly as scary to speak to, to talk to about her fence, hoping to avoid problems. Punishment. After she had spoken, she'd walked back over to her spot, laying down, ears half pinned nervously. She jumped when someone suddenly spoke, looking up to see the master next to her fence now, watching her. But it was his words that shocked her, that had her pausing, innocent eyes shifting faintly with a nervous tenor, There will be no need, little one. If you would like, you may come with me, away from all this violence and cruelty. She blinked for a moment, not sure how to respond, before looking towards the cowering, bleeding mare, and slowly the small filly stood, shaking faintly on her legs, before looking up at him, faint tears in her eyes, "I, I don't . . . like the violence." She said slowly, before jumping at the sound of a master raising his voice, and instantly ran to the master offering her a way out, hiding beneath him, pressing against one of his legs, hiding her face, "I, I don't want to be here! I don't like it here!" She squeaked, before looking up at him, "Please, don't make me stay.l" "WORDS" THOUGHTS

[tarnishedcopper]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true]

[atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png] "Speech." Psyche turned his head, eying the fight as it died down, ever so slowly, as if unwilling to free the fighters from its dangerous clutches. But die down it did, until the crowd dispersed, the injured and the injurer separating. However his attention wasn’t spared in the least for the commotion. No, it was focused on the lovely little filly standing nervously, completely still, staring down at the broken piece of her pen that would mean freedom, but she seemed afraid of getting in trouble. For what? Surely she didn’t believe it was her fault the fence had been broken? He watched as she approached, spoke her piece and returned, lying down, ears half pinned with that nervousness that had not left. How he wished the lovely little filly would not be so afraid of everything. The regal stallion wanted nothing more than to take her beneath his proverbial wing and shield her from such horrors of this life. The filly seemed too pure to be subject to such disgusting actions. The fae jumped when he spoke, looking up to look straight at him, his words seeming to cause her to pause, innocent gaze shifting faintly, nervously. The filly seemed unsure of how to respond, blinking for a moment, and then looked towards the cowering, injured mare before standing slowly. He lowered his head a bit, closer to her height, and watched as she shook faintly on her legs and then looked up at him, the faintest of tears shimmering in her gaze. "I, I don't . . . like the violence." She said slowly, and the stag felt a rush of sympathy and protectiveness wash over him, seeing her jump at the sound of another stallion yelling. She ran to him, hiding beneath him, pressing against one of his legs, hiding her face. "I, I don't want to be here! I don't like it here!" The filly squeaked and then looked up at him, "Please, don't make me stay. l" Psyche smiled gently, and then shook his head, eyes sympathetic. ”I dislike violence as well. And I would never dream of leaving you here. I keep my word, and I don’t want you to be ruined by such masters as the ones here. You deserve better, little one, and if you would trust me, I would try to give you a better life.” He said softly, lowering his elegant head to brush lightly against her flank before straightening, ears slanting back a bit, unused to being so tender, but knowing that he would do it again in an instant. ”Let us leave this foul place. For nothing good will come of it.” The athletic Akhal-Teke said firmly, and nudged her slightly, urging her towards the edge, away from everything, towards the quiet and peacefulness of the forest. Words: 468 Notes: Muse: Tune:

[Dyzzie-doll]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,475,true][atrb=height,700,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/155m35e.png,true] It was with in her gentle nature to be so cautious, so delicate. It wasn’t a desire to be well behaved, or even a sense of brokenness with in her. It was just her nature, to help others, to be protected. And in the sight of such a vicious fight that had left the fragile little girl so desperately scared, she’d done the one thing her mind commanded her to, put the fence back up. It was what kept the mean horses away. And so she’d gone to the closest older horse that looked to be in charge, and not so meant to speak to, her voice tiny, nervous as he stared at her, her own attention on the broken part of her pen, scared, certain she’d be next to be hurt if it didn’t get fixed. What if someone saw it and thought she was trying to escape, or . . . or something even worse? She didn’t want to think about it, so instead, she lay down, once informing the stallion it broke, her head tucked close. When he spoke again, she had jumped, staring at him, and she felt a sense of nervousness. Trying to calculate what was to be an appropriate response, before she’d managed to find her balance, commenting on her dislike of violence. Of course, the moment another master took yelling, the young bella took shelter in the only thing she could find, or rather the only thing. He’d already offered a way out, and this time, she’d accepted and she quivered beneath his larger form, her tiny build fitting with ease, her shoulders hunched, head tucked close, pressed against the side of his leg, as if terrified someone would yell out at her, try to hurt her. It was hardly her fault though, in the sight of violence she did feel an overwhelming amount of fear, perhaps it was because she was so young she knew not how to defend herself, or maybe something else entirely, she didn’t know for sure. She glanced up at him slowly, watching as he smiled, shaking his head, saying he didn’t like violence at all. She took a step forward, closer to beneath his chest, as she tilted her head up to look at him, listening to him as he told her he had no plans on leaving her here, and she felt her shoulders slump slightly in relief, her body beginning to betray her gentler side once more as she lightly leaned against his left front leg, listening to him, listening to him promise to try and give her a better life then this, before he lowered his head, brushing it against her flank lightly. The tiny filly instantly licked his cheek in response, a naturally affectionate creature, one that craved affection herself after being with out any since she had left her mother. As he said they should leave, she nodded, stumbling forward slightly at his nudge, before starting to walk at his side then, keeping close, eyeing the other horses as if afraid they’d try to stop them, before relaxing again as the reached the forest, “Where are we . . . going?” there was a tiny pause before she gave him a tiny shy smile, “My name is Swahili.” "WORDS" THOUGHTS

[tarnishedcopper]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true]

[atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png] "Speech." Psyche couldn’t help but be impressed by the little filly. Sure, she was fearful, but what little foal wouldn’t be in a situation such as that? And she had done the smart thing, what would have let her escape punishment had he not been the one to be told. But either way, he was there, and he didn’t intend on letting the little filly get claimed by any other and corrupt her. Her innocence would make her a great mare when she matured, and he wanted to be able to see it happen, unhindered and unchanged by any other. He was by no means sick, or perverted, no, he wanted to give the other slaves a beacon of hope, in the form of this lovely filly, for she had the makings of a master mare, no matter what her fearful stance indicated. The stag could see it. The filly quivered beneath him, head tucked close as she pressed against the side of his leg. Her weight was by no means enough to throw him off balance, so he didn’t mind one bit. And in fact he nuzzled her flank lightly, having seen her step forward, tilting her head back to look at him, and when he spoke, he had seen the way she slumped in relief. So she was happy to be going with him? The stallion was unsure, but either way he intended to earn her trust. Before his affectionate action he spoke of his promise, and she leaned against his left foreleg, listening to him, her gentle side showing through once more. But the fact that she returned his affection with a lick to his cheek, he smiled warmly, dark mocha eyes delightfully surprised. He was happy she was not so afraid of him that she would return his actions. She nodded at his words of leaving, and stumbled a bit when he nudged her, and the stud was filled with guilt, he forgot just how much bigger and stronger he was than the filly. But when she started walking beside him, keeping close, he knew she held nothing against him for that. The Akhal-Teke saw how watchful the young fae was of the other masters, and while he looked at ease, gaze roaming around in a seeming unrelated pattern, he was on edge. He knew he could defend this little filly, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take the chance of her getting hurt if he were to fight. But they reached the forest, and the filly relaxed as well as he did. “Where are we . . . going?” She said, and a tiny pause before she gave him a shy, tiny smile. “My name is Swahili.” A warm smile flitter across his features and stayed put, his mocha gaze shining with warmth and friendliness. ”We are going somewhere safe, somewhere you won’t have to worry of other masters. I do not have my own herd lands yet, but we can still be safe.” He said gently, lipping her mane lightly, and then smiled. ”It’s very nice to meet you, dear Swahili, I am Psyche.” Psyche said, dipping his head gracefully to her. He looked around and then down at the mud spattered across his pelt. ”Come, we can go rid our coats of this mud, and if you’d like, we can talk.” He said easily, ears swiveling towards the faint sounds of a small creek he’d passed on his way to the pens. Words: 579 Notes: Muse: Tune:

[Dyzzie-doll]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,475,true][atrb=height,700,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/155m35e.png,true] She hadn't been in the slave pens long but she already had figured out what happens if you let yourself get into trouble. She'd seen others have it happened often. She was lucky though, still so young that most of the male masters didn't much care, different enough that many of the females didn't want such a pretty little filly growing up and taking their attention. So she'd been left alone for the most part. But after she saw the part of her fence down, she was worried she'd finally run out of luck, looking around trying to find the nicest of the masters before going and talking to the one she had found, telling him about it. Apparently it had been a good decision though, as he seemed to decide that she'd be the perfect filly to save from this place, a place she definitely wanted to be saved from. She lowered her head, as she hid beneath him, keeping close, relaxing slowly at his affectionate touches, the way he was so gentle, almost certain now that he was going to be safe. She saw him smile, when she'd dared to lick his cheek, and decided that he was going to be okay to be with, safe. She stumbled only slightly though when he nudged her, before instantly falling in step with him, only relaxing completely when they reached the forest edge, asking her question and giving her name, watching him smile, as he told her they'd go somewhere safe from the other masters, before introducing him as Psyche, but it was his comment about getting them clean as she looked down at her pelt, nodding quickly, "I don't like getting dirty," The young filly admitted with a shy sort of smile, "I'd like to be clean again." She added, before bouncing a bit, her energy at the peak of it's level now that she wasn't so scared, her ears swiveling, before finally find the sound of the creek, pointing in it's direction with a nod of her muzzle, "That one? That creek?" She asked, ears alert and curious. She tilted her head, before adding, "Talk about what? mommy always said I'm to young to talk about grown up stuff with, but okay! We can still talk." She said, eyes bright, smile a little brighter and bigger now, before skipping in the direction to the creek, though she kept close to the stallion who'd saved her from those dark places, her copper, gold and ivory coat standing out against his near bronzed one. As she came in sight of the creek though, she picked up her pace, instantly jumping into the shallow creek, before promply laying down and rolling enough to wash the wet mud from her coat and crack and soften the dried mud. By the time she trotted out, the only dark colors left on her coat was the exotic copper colors that mix matched with her palomino coat. She looked at her reflection before trotting back towards Psyche, "All clean now, Psyche!" "WORDS" THOUGHTS

[tarnishedcopper]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true]

[atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png] "Speech." Psyche smiled to see her relax at his gentle, affectionate touches. He knew little else on how to relax the poor filly, and was relieved that the simple approach had worked. If it hadn’t, then, he’d be stuck with a fearful filly. The stallion smiled to see Swahili fall in step with him as they headed towards the forest, and she only relaxed completely once in there. She looked down at herself upon his comment of getting clean, and then nodded quickly. "I don't like getting dirty," The young fae admitted with a shy smile. "I'd like to be clean again." She added, bouncing a bit, and in her movements the stag could see the bouncy foal she actually was, once she got past her fear. He nodded slightly, gaze warming. ”I can understand why you wouldn’t want to be dirty. And that can be arranged.” The stud said warmly, and smiled to see her ears swiveling, before finally finding the sound of the creek he had heard moments before. She pointed in its’ direction with her muzzle, "That one? That creek?" Ears alert, curious. The Akhal-Teke couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, and he dipped his head. ”Yes, that one.” He replied simply, and lipped her ears gently, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. Swahili tilted her head before adding on, "Talk about what? mommy always said I'm too young to talk about grown up stuff with, but okay! We can still talk." Her eyes bright, smile brighter and wider than before. Psyche smiled, ”We don’t have to talk about grown up stuff, if you don’t want. We can talk about whatever you want to.” The stallion said kindly, and nuzzled her gently, gaze warm with growing fondness for the young filly. His words were spoken truthfully. He found it fascinating to watch her as she spoke, to listen to her enthusiasm and innocent curiosity. It all made him ever glad that he had made the decision to take her away. The little fae skipped towards the creek, and he hastened to follow, setting an easy, yet swift pace as he kept close to the filly, and she in turn stayed close to him, her lovely mixed hued coat standing out against his own bronzed one. Upon seeing the creek up ahead, the filly picked up the pace, jumping into the shallow creek and promptly lying down within the water, rolling to wash the mud off. He chuckled softly, moving downstream a bit so that the mud from his own coat would not dirty the water she was playing in. And yes, he did get the mud that came off of her, but it was no big deal as far as he was concerned. Getting up, he moved out of the creek and shook himself, looking over at Swahili and smiling slightly when he saw the exotic and beautiful colors that made up her coat. He certainly had made the right choice. A sweet little filly with such markings as hers would never have made it long. The filly trotted back towards him, "All clean now, Psyche!" He smiled warmly. ”You’re one smart cookie, you know that?” He said with a chuckle, using the endearment his mother had used with him. ”Where would you like to go, little one?” Psyche asked gently, lipping her mane affectionately. Words: 559 Notes: Muse: Tune:

[Dyzzie-doll]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,475,true][atrb=height,700,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/155m35e.png,true] Swahili had heard horror stories of the masters while in those pens, and had fretted since day one about what would happen to her, who would find her, bring her home. But so far as she could see Psyche didn't seem so bad. She smiled, keeping close to him as they walked towards the forest, shying closer, occasionally diving beneath him when a master would pass, quivering when ever one would leer at him, taking safety from Psyche's person being so close. She glanced up at him as they reached the forest, putting a bit more distance as she shook her tiny mane, the tuffs standing up straight, having not yet to begin to grow, her coat only half shedded out from her baby fuzz. One look at the tiny little creature and you could tell she was young, technically young enough that she should have still been with her mother, having been forced off the teet to young when she'd been kidnapped. She'd only survived the transition period by a few kind mares that were willing to nurse her while she was in the pens, but even now you could see the effect it had had on her, her ribs showing, looking thin despite her energy. She looked up when the stallion commented on getting clean, admitting that she would very much like that, and smiled as he nodded, gaze warm, saying he could understand not wanting to be dirty and that being clean was something he could arrange. She nodded her head happily, watching him smile when she found the river with her ears, expression delighted as he replied with a simple yes, his head dipping down to lip at her ears, and she giggled, flicking them away before butting her head against his chest, before leaning against him, eyes wide at the feeling of his chuckle, as it caused his chest to heave slightly. She danced away then as they began to walk, watching the stallion smile, assuring her they can talk about what ever she wanted to, nuzzling her gently, affection she'd been lacking while in the pens, and she leaned into it like a starved babe, contentment at the attention, at the kindness the stallion showed. She started forward, skipping towards the creek, making the stallion pick up a swift pace to catch up, even as she slowed when she found herself to far away from an adult's safety, before jumping ahead at the sight of the water, laughing as it splashed around her, the dirt and mud quickly being sent from her pelt, before she'd trotted out to dry, smiling up at the stallion as she announced herself as clean, You're one smart cookie, you know that. She smiled brighter at the praise, leaning against him, looking around when he asked where she would like to go, "Uh . . . . I dunno! Anywhere!" She giggled, nipping at the ends of his long mane, having to tilt her head up just to reach them, looking unbelievably small and delicate compared to the full grown adult. "WORDS" THOUGHTS

[tarnishedcopper]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true]

[atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png] "Speech." Psyche couldn’t help the seemingly permanent smile upon his face as he watched the little filly move around, but his expression darkened ominously whenever other masters passed, leering at him, where in return he whickered threateningly, ears slanting back to pin against his skull, lifting his lips to bare his teeth ever so slightly, showing he was more than capable and ready to defend the little bella beneath him. Sure his reaction was a bit along the lines of overreacting, but deep down he was frantic at the thought of having Swahili taken from him. He was already attached to the little filly, and just the thought of another taking her from him made him near crazy with anger. The stag was more than ready to go after anyone who had that idea. He intended to keep her safe, no matter what. She deserved that much. He smiled, the tension and anger leaving his muscular frame as she shook out her little mane, only half baby fuzz, looking up at him. The stallion leaned down, running his muzzle gently along her too thin flanks, and knowing that whatever had happened to take her from her parents, it had been far too early, and that she needed food, needed to fatten up. Something he was happy to do for her. Psyche chuckled softly to hear her giggle before she flicked her ears away and then butted her head against his chest, before she leaned against him, eyes wide as he chuckled. He watched her dance away, and look back at him as he spoke. When he nuzzled her gently, and the young fae leaned into it, contentment showing in her actions, he knew she hadn’t had much affection in the pens, and was more than happy to make up for it. Just to see the foal happy was a gift in itself, to know he was doing something good. To see the little foal’s smile at the mention of getting clean, he knew not for the first time, that he had made the right choice. Nodding her head happily, she bounded forward, to the creek, and into the water, getting clean soon after. He cleaned himself off as well, and then left the water, shaking off droplets before she returned to his side. At his praise she smiled brightly, leaning against him, "Uh . . . . I dunno! Anywhere!" Swahili giggled, nipping at the ends of his long mane, tilting her head up just to reach them. She looked so small and delicate beside him, all the more vulnerable and he pushed this thought away, content to make her happy. ”We can go find something to eat, if you would like. I know a place I hope you’ll like.” He said, nuzzling her once more, unable to help it, and then herded her forward gently, towards the direction of the little clearing he had in mind. It was nicely sheltered, with berries that were good to eat, and grass that was just as good. He stayed there now and then, when he tired of traveling, and it made a nice place of rest as well, with two trees growing near in the same spot to make a little cool, shady spot perfect for resting. Words: 544 Notes: Muse: Tune:

[Dyzzie-doll]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,475,true][atrb=height,700,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,true][atrb=background,http://i49.tinypic.com/155m35e.png,true] It didn't take long for the little filly to realize safety came in the form of the copper hued stallion. She watched him, whickering threats, ears pinned, teeth bared slightly, all the actions when a master approached to close, and after a moment's hesitation, when none of the masters were close, the filly tried it, pinning her ears, teeth bared, before missing a step while trying it and falling to the side, and landing against Psyche as she scrambled to catch herself, giggling softly, quickly shutting up with a master wandered close again. Though they reached the forest quickly, she wished it would have been sooner, but regardless, she smiled as the stallion ran his muzzle along her flanks, and she happily cuddled against him, licking his chest, peppering it with little kisses and licks as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. She was just as excited to get the chance to get clean. She smiled as she nipped the ends of his mane, starting to dry in the sun, her fluff of a tail flapping against her side in excitement, before going still at the suggestion of food, nodding quickly, "Yes, yes please!" The foal said quickly, it having been a few days since she'd been fed at the pens. "I'm hungry! "WORDS" THOUGHTS

[tarnishedcopper]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true]

[atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png] "Speech." Psyche smiled faintly to see the little filly mimicking his actions, missing a step as she did so and falling to the side. He was right there to catch her before she scrambled to catch herself, giggling and then quieting when another master wandered close. Thankfully they reached the forest, cleaned off, and then Swahili smiled up at him as he ran his muzzle along her flanks. She cuddled against him, licking his chest and peppering him with little kisses and licks as she gazed up at him with her wide, innocent eyes. He couldn’t help but smile, returning her affections with soft nuzzles and nipping at her tufty mane gently. To see her smiling as she nipped at the ends of his mane, already beginning to dry in the sun, her fluffy tail flapping against her side in excitement, his heart warmed towards the filly, and he smiled affectionately. Her tail stilled at the suggestion of food, and she nodded quickly. "Yes, yes please!" The young fae said quickly, "I'm hungry!” The stallion smiled and nodded, beginning to walk once more as he headed towards the clearing he was thinking of, taking his time and looking behind him to make sure she was following, and also keeping close. Just because they were away from the pens didn’t mean there weren’t any masters around. Words: 224 Notes: Muse: Tune:

[Dyzzie-doll]

Shall we call this thread over and make a new one for them? <3

[tarnishedcopper]

Sure, sounds good to me~