Post by Tristan&Isolde on Jun 8, 2006 17:48:05 GMT -5
A shadow of the moon, seemed to dance across the grasslands. Beats like drums pounded on the earth, crashing agaist it like waves on the shores of the sea. A beast, white as the pale moon beams that kissed it's body dashed across the grass. It seemed all but a dream if you were veiwing it, a ghost perhaps. It's mane flicked back like a serpents tongue, banner streaking back like the wind. Chunks of grass and dirt flew away from the pounding daggers, the long pillars seemed to stretch a league with every step. It's handsome neck arched slightly, legs comming up so high, they almost beat upon the creatures chest. Not a scar or scrape marked the beasts flawless body, a small black bride was all that marked it, and a saddle.
Atop the beast was it's rider. A young maiden, perhaps not even twenty rode atop the snowy white beast. Her own blonde hair streaked back, due to the creatures amazing speed. The girl didn't crouch as other riders would have, she sat up straight, her hands meneuvering the quickly gaited beast. Her eyes were a soft forget-me-not blue, and wide at the moment. Where she was going, no one knew. Only she did. She was riding to Minas Tirith, as fast as she possibly could. She had to see her brother, she had to! The young woman pulled back on the reins of her horse, her stallion, the beautiful white beast. She smiled softly and slid off the saddle. Bending down to a small creek, she drank with her hands. Her own horse bending his head down. They drank together. She stood up. She was lonely, she needed someone to talk to, but that would never come out here. WOuld it?
Atop the beast was it's rider. A young maiden, perhaps not even twenty rode atop the snowy white beast. Her own blonde hair streaked back, due to the creatures amazing speed. The girl didn't crouch as other riders would have, she sat up straight, her hands meneuvering the quickly gaited beast. Her eyes were a soft forget-me-not blue, and wide at the moment. Where she was going, no one knew. Only she did. She was riding to Minas Tirith, as fast as she possibly could. She had to see her brother, she had to! The young woman pulled back on the reins of her horse, her stallion, the beautiful white beast. She smiled softly and slid off the saddle. Bending down to a small creek, she drank with her hands. Her own horse bending his head down. They drank together. She stood up. She was lonely, she needed someone to talk to, but that would never come out here. WOuld it?
