Post by MissParadox on Jun 13, 2010 23:03:10 GMT -6
Playwright
It had taken all damn morning and the better part of this afternoon to decide what fucking mood she was in. She had woken up next to a rather large puddle that slightly resembled a lake. In it she could see her reflection so of course her day was fated to be a total and utter disaster and if it didn't she would help it reach its wonderful pathetic limits. The recent roll around the ground like the good young whore she was had failed to hide her white coloured pelt for the constant stream of rain had washed all of it off. Leaving of course brown coloured stocking that made her look like some kind of half bred mule. Atleast her cords were stained a muddy brown black unlike the pure white they were when clean. Although the mud made them cling to her skin making her if possible ever more pissed of.
So she was making her way willing towards what they call around these parts " the lithora canyon" She had laughed at the name to begin with but a first fleeting glance at it some months prior had proved it was named correctly. She had stored away its location for a time such as now when she felt like some self destruction. Ugly arrogant brutes could always be counted on making her day fail as much as she intended it to. She could already hear the distant echoes of screams and past smell of fear and disgust no wonder it was some equines idea of a dream world. In all honesty this 17.1hh fae would much rather a little boring herd in the valley but then again she would also like it to stop bloody raining and for the stupid cracks of thunder to just piss off, so you couldn't have everything you wanted in life now could we?
Reaching the land, if a land was what you could call it for from this position it looked more like well more like a jagged canyon. Curse those idiot royals and there accurate name giving. Without pausing or hesitating Playwright made her way o so arrogantly into the muddy stinking mess. Her ears eagerly pricked forward picking up each and every sound of torture and fear that she could. Tall lanky frame standing out against the bleak black backdrop, dark excited eyes searching out a prey before one found her. Maybe tomorrow she would try and wake up next to a patch of flowers, maybe then a good day could follow? If of course she made it through hear alive wouldn't that be an exciting prospect?