a love full of sorrow [desires]

[Deleted]

.caru.bròn.

s o r r o w f u l  .  l o v e

    The soft roll of thunder in the distance carried on a breeze that, to many, tasted of the sweet, fresh rain the storm promised. To Bròn it tasted purple. A purple so deep and dark it was nearly black. Every breath he took, with the rain washing over his tongue on the breeze, he tasted that dark purple and he rejoiced in it because it meant that soon, oh so very soon he would be feeling the cooling touch of that purple taste. And when he saw it it would look like wind chimes, the melodic sound of metals tinkling against each other- or perhaps that was the genuine sound of the rain. He was never quite sure how his senses absorbed the information given to them.

    He saw more sounds than he heard, and heard and tasted more colors than anything else. Like his name. Saying it out loud tasted like a deep burgundy. Saying his nickname out loud was a spicy chili pepper and hearing his name it was spelled in that same burgundy color that he tasted when it was said. What an odd little man he was! He closed his brown eyes, lifted his head and sniffed the air around him. His nose, at least, never failed him. He could smell water. He could smell sweat and flowers and sweet grasses. He could smell and he could understand that what he smelled was what everyone else smelled because everyone smelled the same thing- or as he understood it.

    The only thing he did not understand was the smell of blood. It disturbed him how bitter and metallic it smelled but according to everyone else it smelled like that everywhere. Something about there being iron in it or some such and how iron was a metal or whatever. He didn't typically bother to listen - since senses rarely worked correctly with him and never made any sense to him. He frowned at the thought, shaking his head, casting his flaxen mane about his narrow, arched neck. Maybe it was just because he was a weird little man? Well maybe not little... he was awful tall, and narrow, and lean... He sighed, staring at the near-black water lapping at the shore at his hooves. His reflection was a startlingly clear image beneath him, slightly distorted by the rippling surface of the water and he couldn't help but wonder if he was seeing himself correctly or... Sigh...

post color - thoughts - "speech"

Δ Beauty With The Booty

        

[Δ Beauty With The Booty]

Villainess
Take me, I'm alive, never was a girl with a wicked mind,
but everything looks better, when the sun goes down.

If there was one thing the sabino mare was glad of in this fucked up thing she called a life, it was the simple fact that she was far away from her deranged sibling and mad as a hatter sire. They were both truly nuts and it was a bit disconcerting to be around them in one of their escapades. The mare didn't care two shits about what they did, or what they didn't do, she just grew bored easily with them and eventually started getting a conscience. That was something no one wanted when around the Dastardly Duo. Vil scoffed and flicked her two-toned tag against her silver bay flanks. She had left the two males behind, in Reach, their new home. Not long ago the trio had come upon a huge stallion by the name of The Meta. Her icy blue and gold eyes had found him quite attractive, but the Coctyus Queen, Witchcrypt, had been all over him, under his neck and touching him everywhere but his manly bits. Anyone with half a brain could see he did not want to be touched. Villainess had entertained the idea of butting in and showing Witchcrypt how a man of his stature should be handled and even began thinking of ways to woo the palomino beast, but she had eventually grown bored with that and found herself poking crude but serious comments at her sire and the Devil's Daughter that her father seemed so transfixed about. Eventually, she had grown disgusted and completely left the area, her brother following her. After about a mile she had told him to beat it. The quiet little grullo did exactly what she said and walked another way. She couldn't feel sorry for her little brother, she just didn't care.

That had been about a week ago and she hadn't stopped wandering around. She had stopped every now and then to get the sustenance she needed and then carried on. The mare wasn't sure if she was looking for a permanent home or if she just wanted to keep wandering. She wasn't even sure if she cared. Ness snorted and pinned her auds back as she came upon the lake, Pacifist's Lake. The Silver Bay looked down at her reflection and narrowed her two-toned orbs. Ice eyes followed each contour of her own facials, taking in every detail and finding it utterly boring. She flared her nares, making a ripple on the surface of the lake. She instantly grew tired of looking upon her own face and lifted her skull, flaxen and red-black tipped tail slapping against her flanks. Two-toned orbs caught sight of the stallion in the distance, the wind blowing his scent and confirming his gender for the dun sabino missus. Villainess narrowed her orbs for a whole of ten seconds before she ultimately decided to move her stilts towards the stallion. The bay mistress sincerely hoped that this would be a somewhat engaging conversation because so far in her short life, no conversation had been worth the seconds it wasted on her life. She halted a few steps away from him, holding her skull up a bit high but not high enough to show dominance, more so of a stance that meant she would fight if needed, but she would rather not. "Name's Villainess"

@fishtail

[Deleted]

.caru.bròn.

s o r r o w f u l  .  l o v e

    'Names Villainess' it took a profoundly long amount of time for him to register that someone was talking to him. He'd seen the words as he heard them. Each one had its own color, both dark and not quite clear though he was sure that the second word looked like dried blood. How strange. His head slowly rose, his attention drawing outward once again- visibly affecting his appearance as his eyes turned from glassy and dull to vibrant, though emotionless. He turned his ears to the silver bay mare and tilted his head ever so slightly. What should he say? Did she really speak to him or was there someone behind him he hadn't heard sneak up just as he had not heard her approach? He glanced behind and around him, curious enough to bother before focusing on her again.

    His mouth fell open to speak and no sound came out. Not even a choke. What would he say? Well, he could start by giving her his name... I suppose that would work... He cleared his throat and started again. "Carubròn." he sounded hesitant, even in his own ears. Deeply disturbed by this he rushed on to find something else to say. Something that wasn't lame or useless. His mind raced and he found nothing. With a soft sigh he leaned back on his hindquarters, pushing his weight off of his forelegs, and watched her. Finally he asked the first boring question to come to his mind, praying that his company wouldn't despise him for it. "What brings you to, er, here?" wherever here was. The taste of his sentence was like a 7 course meal, with the wrong wines. Everything jumbled together in a mess of colors and flavors and he almost reacted to it - almost. It was hard to smother the urge to retch at his own words.

    Praying she wouldn't say something the color of blood, or dried blood, or anything blood he watched her, waiting to hear what she had to say back. If anything. Maybe he'd already bored her to tears and she'd run screaming from him- like everyone else who thought he was mad. I'm not mad... Maybe a little touched, but not mad. Right? Right. He twitched an ear, shaking flies away from it and swished his tail in a mechanical gesture, not really feeling or caring about the flies that were floating around his legs and belly.

post color - thoughts - "speech"

Δ Beauty With The Booty