a R O L L E R coaster rush••

[`* isis]

a R O L L E R coaster rush••
T H A T ' S T H E W A Y I L O V E Y O U

it had taken the gypsy long to find this place, to finally witness for herself the beautiful terra that black had so kindly offered as a new home, but, as her deep ochre eyes observed the lay of the rolling, strangely magical land that spread out below her like a patchwork quilt of browns, blues and greens, she knew the long journey just to set her wide chocolate optics upon the scenic vista. she inhaled a breath of the fresh air, that was, in the same tone, somehow old, ancient, wise. like it had been here forever, since before the beginning of time, always existing, never terminating. enduring. the air which she pulled into her lungs greedily must have sustained so many royal steeds before her that she felt rather unworthy standing at the fringes of such immortal, strangely fascinating land. After all, what was she to the ancients of midnight acres but a mere wandering soul, a nothing against such royalty this land exalted? Still, though, she felt honoured to be standing on the turf, humbled that black would choose a gypsy like herself to be one of his mares. shaking the thoughts from her head, she took a hesitant step, half expecting something to spring up like a jack-in-the-box, and startle her out of this idle daydream.

S O I N L O V E T H A T Y O U A C T I N S A N E

fortunately, no such cruel surprise existed, and she took another step, and another, until she had reached a suitable velocity at a slow, leisurely canter. the three beat gait carried her rather swiftly upon her almost disproportionately long, iron pillars, though she had assumed a medium slow pace to drink in the noble air of the land, to observe every green bud with wondrous wide eyes, like a newborn seeing the world for the first time. she slowed more, to a long, smooth trot; the soothing rhythm whispered in her ear like a lullaby, barely discernable against the soft sighing of her voluminous feathers brushing together. all was still, unnaturally still; usually, spring was full of calling birds and bounding deer and howling wolves. she was a tad unnerved by the stillness, though she still basked in the silence, enjoying its comfortable pressure against her ear drums. isis had gone far before reaching a crystal clear lake that seemed almost perfectly centered in the land, barren of trees for a few acres, before the trees began to spring up a few hundred meters away from the fringes of the icy lake, forming a dark curtain that surrounded her sanguine figure. she dipped her ashen maw lazily into the water, scattering a few small minnows that had gathered near the shore to catch morsels of dried grass the wind blew over the lake. the water was cold, but not unusually so, as it undoubtedly would have been in the winter.

F R U S T R A T I N G , I N T O X I C A T I N G , C O M P L I C A T I N G

thankfully, though, winter had relinquished its icy hold over the land, and everything seemed to bloom now. everywhere her optics touched the earth, there seemed to be a new bud among the trees, a new blade of grass pushing through the layer of shrivelled yellow tangle. the earth was being renewed, and isis fully looked forward to summer and all the green lushness of the land. Her attention was torn away from the spring blossoming by the meandering thought of where black was, and what other mares inhabited this forgotten valley. she inhaled again, this time with a purpose, trying to sort through all the delicious scents of vegetation to seek out any equine scents. the spring rainfall seemed to have washed away the markers of equine life, and she was left with little information as to just who called this place home, besides black champagne. she wondered idly what it was like to live permanently somewhere. she had only ever known the aimless wanderings of a gypsy, never the attachment to one terra most other of her species craved. . .

&bull• complete
&bull• open
&bull• six hundred fifty
&bull• love story - taylor swift
&bull• batman is hott. *hyperventilates*

[rayvencullen.]

BLACK CHAMPAGNE

Every little sound or movement would alert the beast, the eventual flutter of bird wings or the murmur of the water that rushed throughout his lands; he had every right to be on edge to keep an eye out for that bastard who had intruded some seasons ago and put his queen's life in jeopardy. Whoever thought of such a thing he knew that Marvolo was behind it, seeking revenge just because his own brother wouldn't hand over the keys to the lands like he did with him; Marvolo was obviously pissed just because Champagne got the keys and not him. Gentle rumbles of an approuching thunderstorm jolted him from his light slumber with a loud snore, lips parting and closing again to dampen his dry mouth with a sigh; weight shifted uncomfortably from his left limbs to his right before head dropped to whuff at the ground for a moment, left radar flicking backwards into his tressels with a slight grunt of pain. Not a while ago he had been damned to a fight with so called Caesar, once more threatening Ava's well-being in the lands as queen and as the right to stay a part of Forgotton Valley. He didn't know what was the sudden impulse of nearly breaking his dear Ava in half these days, but it was beginning to worry him alot; would he have to keep a better eye on his queen to keep her safe? Perhaps put her in the care of his mares while he himself recooperated from his wounds? No, of course not! It was his duty to make sure he kept his mares safe, happy and content in staying in the Valley forever, with him.

Pulled out of his daydreams once more by the pitter-patter of the raindrops he could faintly pick up the scent of the attacker, Chaos, and his mares; Ava, Cassiopeia, Jewel, and of course his newest arrival Isis. Upon meeting her he could tell the mare had been wandering a while, possibly she'd make a good negrego; but instead she had been put with the curse second-in-command. Of course there was nothing wrong with that, it was just like he had two queens to love and care for. Nasals flared, limbs carrying his black carcass towards the scent of the gypsy mare; steps were slow, lazy perhaps as he stepped over a few fallen logs, mind and eyes wandering to the flashing lighting above and the crack the thunder made after the electrical waves shot through the grayed clouds until he finally ambled into sight of the mare; upon the hill he seemed like some sort of demon to those straying eyes, body black as it is was silhouetted and occassionally lit up by the flash of the lighting, his teals wild and shining with curiousity as he let out a call towards her, limbs moving him down the incline at a slow and even trot before he slid to a stop a few feet away, mud and dirt flung into the air upon his stop, a gentle grin upon his facade as he dipped his head respectfully.

[`* isis]

a R O L L E R coaster rush••
T H A T ' S T H E W A Y I L O V E Y O U

the gyspy lifted her cranium skyward at the rumble of thunder that greeted her swivelling auds, her onyx optics glancing up to take in the stunning view of forked lightning snaking across the blackened storm clouds. The rain began to fall, as if on cue, as the lighning dissipated to a roll of thunder, the land falling dark again under the cover of angry, roiling cloud cover. A sigh hissed past her flared nostrils, and she swished her tail as the raindrops finally reached the parched summer ground in a light drizzle that stained the air a silvery grey. She was all alone in her silent reverie of the thunderstorm, her lids dropping as water trickled down her forelock and down her painted cranium in tiny rivulets that dripped off her muzzle in rhythmically. The air was thick with moisture, her shoulders moved in and out like smith’s bellows to pull the oxygen into her deep lungs, expelling the accumulated carbon with a huffed sigh as a new sound reached her harks.

S O I N L O V E T H A T Y O U A C T I N S A N E

She tensed automatically; years alone had taught her that vigilance was everything, and, even in a light land, dangers lurked in the shadows, waiting for a mistake, a chance, to strike with violet precision. She knew that, yet she was hard pressed to come up with a logical conclusion as to just what it was. Isis had begun to turn to face the direction of the sound, when a welcoming whinny teased her auds into an upright position, and her maw into a smile; she recognized the tenor of the call. Black Champagne, just the equine whose presence she had desired. She sighed in relief, having expected some for of attack or another, since she had never been a particularly lucky fae. Her eyes wheeled to catch the movement of Black‘s form down the hill from where he must unleashed his vocals. She picked up a jaunty trot, her knees snapping up smartly to carry her lithe bodice over the wet ground to meet the king‘s swiftly approaching frame half way.

F R U S T R A T I N G , I N T O X I C A T I N G , C O M P L I C A T I N G

She slid to a somewhat graceful stop, too abrupt to be entirely well executed. Her ebon daggers dug into the soft, rain soaked ground and she bobbed her head in acknowledgement of his courteous bow, stepping forward to bump his shoulder gently with her velveteen muzzle. “Hullo again, Black. ‘Tis is lovely terra you have here,” Isis began in a lilting voice, “If you don‘t mind my asking, do you have any other mares? I‘d like very much to meet the rest of your herd.”

&bull• complete
&bull• open
&bull• four hundred twenty six
&bull• forever - john michael montogomery
&bull• hmmmmmm. Rather short & crappy, but I FINALLY posted, so you should be proud of me. =D