To think I was just drooling over a calicoOwner: Fuscontidox
Name: Serilda (Teutonic origin; meaning "Maiden in Battle Armor")
Age: 4
Height: 13 hh
Adventure:
Their meeting in itself was quite the adventure...Serilda; Age 2; Late Summer
At the break of dawn, Serilda awoke, having fallen asleep away from the others, she was ready for the day, she didn't care what others had said to her, shooting down what she wanted to do, she wanted to be a part of the war, to be in the action! Not as some filly who would stand on the look out, she wanted to be a fighter, one of the warriors! She wasn't named Serilda for nothing, she wanted the live up to her own name. So that morning, on the chilly summer day, she decided to do something so simple and so stupid to prove herself. She was going to kill an enemy, not just any enemy, a stallion. She looked over the valley from the mountains in which her people -the lowlanders- reside, taking tentative strides, she descended into the tree line, her head high and watchful eyes lurking through the dark shadows of the trees. It didn't take long for her strength to start to wither, and her pride to run dry, she was alone walking aimlessly towards enemy territory, this was obviously an extremely idiotic idea for a filly to make! She shrunk in her own coat, starting to curl around herself as she moved faster sounds of foot steps matching her own, started to echo in the trees surrounding her, she looked about, picking up her pace, listening as the hooves stuttered, they werent her own! she made a clear run for it, attempting a U-turn that may not have existed her breathing became rapid and her thick fur felt heavy in sweat. She came to a quick halt, the uneven steps behind her skidded to an end, lifting her tail, she swung it outward purposefully aiming to hit whoever was following her lost figure.
"Who Goes!?" She boomed, attempting to seem unmoved, a snort of laughter echoed, and from the shadows stepped a stallion, his horns straight as a pin but fur as full as that of winter.
"Youre too easy, just like the rest, tempted by war, you go the wrong direction down the valley and into the land of those who are hybrids, those who are left to find self survival and have no interest of fighting, or mingling with the likes of those who threw us away." He was cocky, and gave a know-it-all attitude and he looked down from his towering height towards the filly who could only stand short, she grimaced and shot snot from her nose and unto his lip before turning away to head home or around the mountain.
"Lowlanders belong in the other direction Miss, Priss!" He called.
"And you belong six feet under..." She mumbled under her breath as she turned back
around and walked passed him, her ears pinned and eyes glaring into slits of green
"Got something in your eye?" He asked bitterly.
"Yeah, a soar called your face." she shot back with a bitter smirk to match him.
"First time ive come across even a purebred who thinks my face is under pretty."
"That's nice, go talk to the ones who actually care." Serilda grumbled.
"I will, and when i do, you'll probably be lost deep in the wrong territory, cause youre going the wrong way." He winked and started to walk away, leaving a fuming Serilda, "Whats your name, Half and Half."
The stallion stopped in his tracks and spun his neck to face her, a smirk in his sin-filled eyes, "Skylark," Serilda turned away and dropped her head snorting before bursting into laughter.
"That's a girl's name!" she shrieked.
"Maybe to someone who doesnt know my real name." with that the stallion left Serilda in the dust, the tree tops thick, and yet visibly clear of where she could follow the sun west towards where she should never have left, but she's sorta glad she did. She would need to sneak down again, just to find the cocky stallion with a mare's name.
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it done now, and i know its not exactly two paragraphs cause theres dialogue and stuff but i hope its okay 0-0
