[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by Mockingbird on November 6, 2008, 10:55 pm
99.249.161.109
OOC| Yo <3
Ah. The common factor of people who either become easily distracted or lose track of which direction they are heading tend to get the result entitled "being lost". In such cases, panick-stricken disbelief or perhaps a frantic and desperate search for appointed landmarks might begin to take place... If they have a lovely, and welcomed bout of luck, they may come across a stranger who knows the lay of the land and can send you back right on your trail. For others, they may be damned to wander the paths for a good long time before realizing they had to go East, not West, or other such means.
For others, even, however, there is just no care in the world as to what direction they go; good sports in whatever they get as a result. The Glade is a place that most horses go to have chats or mild conversations with equine of other herds; a place of, well, sort of peace-confined environments. And despite this, there is one being who honestly has no idea what the place is for, except that it has beautiful trees and really fun friends to play with. That certain someone has no fear of absolute night because she has not the ability to understand why on should fear it. Occasionally something odd may surprise her and send her on her way, but the little child does not have the sense to try and figure out why something that just isn't scary, should be.
It was as the beast post-trotted quite haphazardly through the trees, her head lolling from side to side like she had no control over it, that her pale blue eyes caught sight of a pretty femme to her left. Skidding to a halt after prancing on the spot, she giggled ecstatically, once again omitting the sound of a person laughing on helium, and turned to face her, tilting her head quizically. No thoughts crossed the cremello's strange mind; instead, she stared in wonder and curiosity, not even attempting to conceal her stupid grin. After a moment of watching and, if you could actually call it 'contemplating', the cremello's legs began to move forwards, a bounce in each miscalculated step. Before Mockingbird had made it halfway to Renata's stance at the tree, something crossed the blue eyed vision, sending her off on another adventure. Distractions were much to fun to ignore, and so Mockingbird danced after the bird, before it disappeared in the treetops.
After staring blankly and in confused fashion towards the area that the bird had amazingly disappeared, the cremello sighed and her pink tongue rolled out, hanging as droll dribbled slightly from the side of her parted mouth. Iced blue pools whipped around to look back at Renata, who no doubt by now was watching with either disdain or amusement, and giggled out in such a high pitch that it was sure to have not been heard by our hearing range.
Tilting her ears forwards so they almost touched at the tips, Mockingbird swung her whole bodice around, flopping her head to the side and asking Renata curiously, "Ahhhghgnn...? Guhhhh." Of course, Renata wouldn't be able to understand what the femme wanted to know- in fact, Mockingbird wasn't even certain she had wanted it to be understood. If she even knew what she has asked in the first place... Nope. The question slipped her mind as it always did and the three year old's hooves lifted up, prancing dangerously close to Renata's form, stopping with their noses almost touching, and pale blue eyes watched innocently as a butterfly flitted its wings on Renata's hip. An excited shriek was released from the depths of Mockingbird's throat and she pranced around the mare's side, watching the butterfly as intently as though Renata no longer existed.
My friends, congratulations. You get to see the amazing ways of a mentally disabled horse.
"Speech"
MOCKINGBIRD
J A E G E R
11
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