d r i f t // come to me

[eggy]

• upon birth a name was given; drift
  
  
• it stayed that way forever; male
  
  
• the sky was tempest-tost like me; white w/black nose=technically grey.
  
  
• and i had chosen my path; neutral
  
  
• it was not without its troubles; deaf
  
  
• for i fell so many times; (this is not Drifteh's, it is from another RPG. And it's baddd.):
  Gently, I oversaw my land with secretly prying occuli, shifting through the dizzying supporting beams of that beating solaris that hung passive-aggressively in the azure yonder above my reach. Rarely had I before ventured away from my residing lands to the pleasantries of the ennoble Equus, but visits had become more frequent. I had become in need of a confidant; an ally in the strong form of the word instead of the kind that everyone so loftly sailed around through word of mouth. The wretches that came to the inner claiming grounds frightened me for jarring ideals were nevertheless tossed around. “I am not a toy. I am a rogue.”
  
  The premise of these firm-rooted thoughts that always reassuringly stemmed in my brainpan informed me that some sort of demon possessed me, that the shattering of law was put aside for my own safety. I expelled a superficies snort, craving a break from the insanity that in turn questioned my own psychological soundness. “Mentals don’t ask themselves if they’re insane.” I much more lightheartedly confirmed this as true.
  
  Focusing back upon my scanning of the horizon, I chanced upon a silhouette of presumably great proportions. Upon closer inspection of scent and sight as I remembered jovially I was downwind of this shape, I determined the loner was a baron- a new baron. An air of inquisitiveness and just a hint of rebellion drew me closer. Near-obsidian focals adjusted and the caesar began to strike me as some form of coincidental ally. Sensing some sort of strange connection, I realized that these symptoms were of a crazed nature. I had not yet even spoken to the via!
  
  “Stop acting like a complete d'amned idiotic fool and introduce yourself!”
  
  Tentatively procuring an onyx stilt onward, I subtlety tried to make my presence known to anyone who might have glanced, however not drawing attention to my chassi’s strangely open movements unfit for a noble. The target of my line of vision was such an insidious mirror but so... different. Like the gazing pools and closed ponds that were smooth and reflected a nearly symmetric form, though it was shifted; forelock on east meant a forelock on the west. Tantalizingly strange the subject was, however I despised such obscure mind games.
  
  I trod confidently toward his hulking, pied frame so close to my image, leaving a wake of uneaten vedure spared for other such fortunate citizens. Tingling, a spinal sensation fluttered about my long. I felt his religion was the practice of not having the aforementioned. Just as I, he felt defiant- crisp and new, showing that the act of rogueship was not one of darkness, and breathing a new life into the seemingly meaningless and overused syllable. It was one of all feelings, the beings inhabiting the implied temple knowing that they could choose any path and were truly never stereotyped as others. Only neutralism came close to being complementary to rougueship, however my crafty religion still found itself in a league of its own.
  
  All in a flutter, I knew where my inexplicable reading of personalities had originated from. I wanted all of the citizens I ruled to be loyal and just like me, and now I was beginning to read my feelings into others. I didn’t know anything about this chump. Finally, if I could rid myself of the knowingly wrong feeling that the lone ruler of a land should be forbidden to speak to possibly disgraceful newcomers, I could bring up the courage to check my instincts. Maybe I was correct, on the off chance my suspicions were lucky. It all depended on my own representation, and yet
  every equine played a part. Attitudes weren’t all that had to imagine.
  
  Noisily stripping undergrowth to be parted from its roots, I took off my casual mask and finally, courageously, tilted my refined, chiseled aplex to that utterly unreachably realm of haze above and the threateningly high bleaching sun which had advanced in its westward path, though not considerably so. All this I noted without missing a glance of surveillance to the giddy newcomer. Irritating pollen wafted into readily accepting passages, and I expelled a snort of relief- certainly not the grand introduction I was hoping for. Nevertheless, I figured it would draw his recognition to me on accident, and I let a chorus waft into his scrutiny, “Hello, there. May I ask, are you new here?” It was a polite and simple inquiry- offering its receptor a choice to reply or refuse and not unnerving in any way. Letting an awkward pause permeate the still-mirthful air, I continued, “May I also inquire, who am I speaking to?” Already I would know something about my mysterious “counterpart,” or what have you, by even what order he answered me in what tones. Confident and orderly replies positive; stammering and confusion negative. Even so, forgive and forget was still my solid philosophy.
  
  Figuring I should start the conversation mildly, casual altos uttered the syllables, “In answer to the latter, I was given the name Irondequoit. Quite a mouthful, isn’t it?” The playful and casual interrogation was meant to make the mascule feel comfortable and try to strike up an interesting volley of conversation. Traces of sarcasm were not found and each syllable was earnest and positive.
  
  With a pointed and uneasy silence on my part, shifting pacers eased as I calmly waited for this outsider to vocalize. Questioning of insanity were nudged aside to collect cobwebs because now I knew that I was only acting true to as I felt, as cool as the wind or as boiling hot as today’s ever-present solaris.
  
  
  word count; 948
  
  
• and i remember how it always felt; (it sucks): The bracken whistled as a fierce squall sighed through it, prying fingers seperating and weaving the bare giants. Vedure-stripped decidui reverberated with the tempest. A lone, obese nymphe wandered and finally lay down, her locks thrown askew and dampened by the tormenting zeypher. This czaress was my own flesh and blood, the carrier of my infantile fetus.
  
  Yes, my mother dearest.
  
  I saw her gale-tampered bodice sprawled motionless on the firma as I got my unsteady footing. I suckled unsurely, and then all hope was lost. My only-known relative was dead. Another took me in, one whose dubbance is long-forgotten and has blown away with the same breeze that flew when I was born. This harlot was mourning over the loss over her own bantling. I'm sure she could have cared less for my insignifigant presence.
  
  I can very accurately assume that my birth was unintentional, for my mother's rxpist was none found and her body was unprotected. When the lupin-scavengers finally claimed her, I had enough sense to roam elsewhere. I was truly not angry or sad that my father had left this monarch because I didn't know her persona. It was a meaningless subject, and the only remorse I ever felt was not knowing the noble steed whom had been my creator, not the insignifigant one who had held the hession's seed.
  
  word count;; 224
  ooc ;; umm... i don't consider this an outbox, so it doesn't meet requirments.
  
  
• i kept wondering why they stared at me; Lanky at some points, Drift is a towering 16.8 hh with characteristics of a Shire yet enough chisled and refined pieces that he seems that of a sturdy throughbred.
  
  
• yet i didn't feel so wrong after all; Drift is a liberal horse who always has justification for everything he does, which results in his feeling misunderstood. He easily gets blown up and has a rising temper. If you get on his good side, there is no such thing as an acquiantance or a true friend; when he knows you as a friend, he trusts you as much as he trusts all of his other allies.