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Post by Running Freee on Jan 20, 2008 21:54:23 GMT -5
A Jet black mare appeared in the cold morning with the sun just coming up, the fog surrounded her and she was almost invisable, she let a little nicker out, she loved to run in cold mornings, today being a little colder then normal, she trotted to warm up, only to stop after a few feet to watch a few deer eat. Her heavy body was so quiet although so big. The deer ran off after hearing her, so she continued to walk along the cold fog.
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Post by .:ThIrDcHaRm:. on Jan 20, 2008 22:04:33 GMT -5
FENNORE farm3.static.flickr.com/2347/1870429835_c09bf1e798.jpg?v=0The white stag moved easily. He smiled, filling his lungs with crisp winter air. He snorted, invigorated. He had recently claimed his land, his land.... ahhh what a ring to those sentences. He sniffed the air. He was searching for new members for the herd, and hopefully a mate. He moved at an ambling walk, easy for a moment. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw her. The perfect mare, black, in contrast to his mostly white bod. She was a drought, like him. They were perfect for each other. He ran to her, and came to a heavy trot a few feet from her, stopping directly in front of her. He bowed Lady, I am dubbed Fennore, call me Fen, will you grace me with your calling.he questioned. He dipped his crown to his chest in greeting. He then waited, the winter air whipping his mane.[/color][/center]
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Post by Running Freee on Jan 20, 2008 22:15:43 GMT -5
Mighty halted when the stallion came up to her, she could feel his heavy trot in the ground, she gave a small bow back to him and smiled at his white body, so opposite of hers, yet it was almost as if the colors called to each other. Yes you may have that grace of my name though it is nothing special, Mighty, fits doesn't it? she laughed Yet the real grace is to see you stand in front of me" she couldn't believe she said that but she didn't regret it.
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Post by .:ThIrDcHaRm:. on Jan 21, 2008 22:58:40 GMT -5
He turned bashful, she was flattering him. He cleared his throat and faced the black femmore
Mighty is a perfect name. It is a rare pleasure indeed to meet a mare so fine. I wonder though, are you here searching for a mate, for if you are you may have found one....
he didn't mean to be so forthright, but this mare had captivated him, and he simply could not bring his to leave without her. He didn't even think he could tear his eyes from her supple black bod. [/center][/size]
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Post by Running Freee on Jan 22, 2008 14:57:23 GMT -5
Mighty's heart leaped inside her, a mate...a nice ring to it, maybe it was the end to her hunger for love. "I am searching for mate, and i have one in mind, he is a musculer horse, all white, and he looks gentle and fierce at the same time, yet i hope he has found a mate in me." she took a step closer to him and smiled herstomach full of butterflys.
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Post by .:ThIrDcHaRm:. on Jan 23, 2008 19:53:18 GMT -5
He smiled and his heart lifted, sigh coming forth.
Yes, no question, the mare that stands before me is perfect, sweet, kind, powerful, gorgeous. I think....that I may love her.
he stepped, and slowly, romantically, his nose reached to touch her neck, and he nipped at her black mane......love
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