Prance, Prance Not Much Else To Do (PLOT)

[Myth :]]

Here, Here I come
What a show off they call me
Oh dear, I simply would care less
For Paris, is here to strut her stuff

The young minx lowered her dished, elegant cerebrum as she floated forwards, her trot was one of those showy equines, this explained her personality. Flare, was called the Paris Hilton Of All Horses therefore, her dubbith Paris was given to her. She was called Flare, but after a year of life she had been blessed a new calling. Ha! Her flame licked sabino skin, sure gave her kissers something to describe.. as she strutted about the land her tail stuck up high, oh how any equine would love to murder her... disgusted at such a snob. Her chassis was built as any pure Arab would, slim legs made for running and her dished profile was the signature look of the Arab breed.

Paris whimpered slightly at the impact of wind against her crania, her tabiries watered slightly as she kicked backwards in defiance. She stuck her crania straight up, her listeners pinned to her skull as savagely as she could manage herself. Paris whimpered once more to her mind Oh! How savage this stupid weather! Dare it to blow it's fury upon me! Her temper had grew quite irked now, as the light from the sun struggled to bear down on Paris. Many halcyon tempered clouds floated above, as they hovered they seemed to smile as their happy mood seemed to cheer the sun into shinning gentle, and not bearing the elements down on the planet below. She muttered to herself some simple lyrics as she carried on, not knowing where to go, she went forwards. As long as the wind blew, Paris followed and she.. always enjoyed those jealous looks, oh how she fed off of that.

If you can take my personality
If you think this is already over you must be crazy
I'm not finished yet, I'm just getting started
I don't get impressed by those idiotic stags



Her gait was a mid prance now, her steps higher than the last as she kicked backwards with her hind pistons. As the ducthess did so, her pools sparkled with pleasure as the wind played with her plumage and dreads. The feeling of elegance made her blush with pure halcyoness, happiness and content feelings. Her optics laid forward now, as she whinnied loudly, not calling nor repelling but stating her presence to those who reside here.. she wasn't going to move..

UNBRIDLED, LESLIE AND FLICKA NEED TO POST HERE! PLEASE POST YOUR BEST ;D

[Unbridled Freedom]

OOC: I will post soon, Okay?

[Myth :]]

Okay!

[Unbridled Freedom]

I look inside myself and see that my heart is black.
______________________________________________________________

Lurking in the darkest of the shadows a pair of dark sapphire optics watched the stuck up vixen. The noir hellion rolled his optics. He strode through the shadows, pacing. His pillars seemed to disappear into the darkness, blending in. In fact all of him seemed to blend into the shadows. The only things that were visible about him were his dark sapphire optics. He didn’t want to waste his time on this pitiful light femme but he had nothing better to do. Beside while he played around with her he could wait for some other equines to make their entrances and then he could turn his attention to them. He nodded his dial, that was what he was going to do. He stuck one of his daggers from the shadows. It glistened in the sunlight one then faded back. In one swift movement we was completely out of the shadows and standing in the sunlight. The wind blew, it tossed his wavy locks and banner back, playing with them. As soon as the wind had stopped the sun became clouded over and it became a bit darker.

To him it was like a breath of fresh air, a drink of water in the blazing desert, like waking up from a nightmare. The only thing was that the nightmare had only begun. The hellion whipped his tassels across his haunches and walked forward. He stretched to his full –and towering- eighteen hand height and strode over to the vixen.

Well, well, well. What do we have here? He asked, his voice taunting. A wimpy light vixen who thinks to high of herself? One that can never defend herself, even if her life depended on it? A vixen who is a waste on this earth. A vixen who no one will ever love because she is too full of herself, Deadly Sin continued. A vixen who every one hates and a vixen that is a waste of my time. A light. He snarled and ended the last insult with a twang. Like the sound a Bowen arrow makes when it lets the arrow go, the arrow that is aimed at your heart, the arrow that is about to kill you.

The hellion circled around the vixen, even if she did move. He was careful to avoid her back daggers so he couldn’t get kicked. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what he was doing. He nipped at the vixen’s sides. He wanted to give her scars and hopes he would by the time he was finished with her. He wanted her perfect pelt to be covered with scrapes and bruises. He wanted to make her imperfect. He wanted to turn her life upside down.

[Myth :]]

Paris had the look anyone would give this kind of creature, her lips curled as she hissed at his movements. She mocked him, her words simple and silent but she was disgusted at his insanity. She jerked her dial upwards, her dished head slightly covered by her silk like drapes, fitting her crane perfect. Ugh! Bloody Stag, Someone hasn't groomed in a few decades Her auds pinned themselves, an aggressive tone to her squeel as she knew he would not take her warning, she knew she he was those brutes who sought out the vixens like Paris. She did not care at all, no she did not mind those sickly ones, nor the that had the muddy skins. She spat a reply at him, she was disgusted by his attitude, oh how he thought he was above her, those stupid stags. Did I say I wanted to be judged by the disgusting likes of You? If I'm a waste of your bloody time, get out of my bloody way. She knew she had nothing left to return, but her blood began to boil as he circled her. The femora's maw clamped tight and her pools flared with the tint of fire in them. She swished her tail, not from nervousness but of boredom with the equine already. He had decided to mess with the wrong lady, the wrong equine in the atmosphere of already falling stars. Her life was written on the scroll, she called her mind.. this brute had no mind, it made no difference if he had the darkest of hearts.. she stood her ground.

She squeeled as she reared upwards, landing back on the ground with her frontside facing the brute, she kept her senses sharp.. not wanting him to inch any closer to her. His dggers could pierce the ground somewhere else, not near here. Paris lifted her dial, as she eyed the stallion's movements. She flared her nostrils once more, warning him..














OOC- Sucky post, sorry!