I lift my gaze from the pool, as I realize that I am no longer alone. I've been so lost in thought that I did not even hear the stallion's approach. I turn my crown and stare at him, curious if the question he presented was one because he was also lost, or if it was some sort of accusation regarding my presence. His tone did not betray his intention, and so I was forced to take it at face value. Feeling rather disagreeable, I answered as plainly as I could. "No." I give no indication of any emotion, and at first, I turn back toward the pool of water as if our bit of conversation is over. Is this a drinking pool? Watering hole type thing? Meh.. doesn't matter. I turn away from it, including my whole body in the process this time. I walk toward the stallion and eye him as I do. Cream colored, golden horn and hooves, with a turquoise tattoo to match his turquoise eyes. Were I more artistically inclined I might have commented that the pairing was quite fetching and he was a very handsome fellow. (But really, do you see me as the artistic type? Not so.) I stop when I am parallel to him, and glance over my shoulder. "But tell me, dear boy, do you?"
I continue on past, and walk over to a large column, some remnant of an ancient civilization I presume. It's huge around, like a large oak tree, and very tall. Made of some type of stone, I assume, for I know little of the construction of buildings. I rub my body up against it, scratching a subconscious itch, and it does not move, not an inch. There is no give like a tree, no life within it. I turn my eyes upon the stranger again, still leaning against the column. I don't prompt him for an answer, but simply wait, expecting that he will say something again even if it is not in direct reply.
WC: 339
Tag: @Martin Comments: He's feeling sassy :P or I am.. IDK
I continue on past, and walk over to a large column, some remnant of an ancient civilization I presume. It's huge around, like a large oak tree, and very tall. Made of some type of stone, I assume, for I know little of the construction of buildings. I rub my body up against it, scratching a subconscious itch, and it does not move, not an inch. There is no give like a tree, no life within it. I turn my eyes upon the stranger again, still leaning against the column. I don't prompt him for an answer, but simply wait, expecting that he will say something again even if it is not in direct reply.
Tag: @Martin Comments: He's feeling sassy :P or I am.. IDK
Rostislav
more than a drunken fool
