Oh the joys of Living [Feather]

[tarnishedcopper]

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[atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/AndriaTableMiddle2.png] "Speech." Andria pranced along the beach, her ears pricking with curiosity along with an inborn excitement. She was young, not long over a year old, and it showed. Innocence danced in her dark, compassionate eyes, as well as grace shone from every movement she made. The fae picked her way along the beach, grateful for the gentle breeze lifting her mane off her neck, and twisting her tail, keeping the true heat of the sun from truly getting to her. Nonetheless, even with the breeze the mare was feeling drowsy, and thirsty. But these waters were not for drinking, she reminded herself, and even though the brightness in her eyes dimmed ever so slightly, she then perked up happily once more, happy to just be alive. No matter how young she was, she’d still heard stories. And those stories came closer and closer to destroying her little comfort blanket of innocence. Dria didn’t really know this, she only knew that the stories scared her. And some warmed her heart. Like the one of a master and a slave falling in love, or another of a master being kind and affectionate. She wanted a master like that. But innocence didn’t stop pure logic to come through in the fae. She knew the odds of getting a kind master, which were only slightly more than the odds of finding love and having children. Andria knew she was a slave, and that this would never truly change, much as she wished it would. But she would content to be herself. Surely she could be safe like that? The Akhal-Teke mare sidestepped, eyes shining with warmth as she approached the waters lapping against the sand of the beach. Soon enough she was close enough that the waves touched her hooves, causing her to giggle and paw at the waves, ears pricked, eyes shining. She often found things such as this to occupy herself. Stepping back a bit, the mare slowly settled onto her knees, and then lowered herself so that she was lying upon the ground, not quite on her side, just cushioned by the sand beneath. Her elegant head lowered slightly so that she could lip at the waves if she so desired by stretching her neck out ever so slightly. Andria felt her eyes begin to droop beneath the hot sun, and the mare began to doze. Words: 394 Notes: Muse: Tune: