I'll { F E E D } Your Obsession, Rosabella Nicola x ?

[Spirit Dancer]

A single glance. That's all that took from the young Duchess-to-be to send most to their knees, if they knew of her quick temper and sharp tongue. If one did not; they would learn sooner or later. Most of the time, it was sooner for the young femme due to her recent times and progressions though the world. For, unlike the "peasents" as she so called them, she was doomed to an arranged coupling. She would never have the chance to spend the long months to find that perfect one, like everyone else. She would be stuck at the side of a pompous stag whom was destined to be twice her age, and was intent about expanding his harem of mares and siring children to name a heir.

Despite these thoughts, and the punishment that would ensue her departure, she followed her half-brother, Giovanni, in fleeing their home. Though lost half way through their traveling, she had managed to reach the same place - though through the tests of endurance, she discovered she wasn't blessed by the Gods like Giovanni. She was destined to swing between the path of Light and Dark for an eternity.

However disgruntled by these recurring thoughts, the young mistress was one of those who'd catch your attention and keep it.

Her canvas was a rare, dark golden color - with lighter tones dappling her lean, lithe body. White stockings graced long pillars, as her mug muzzle was ashened. Long tresses of her mane hung down to right above her knees; as her tail drug behind like the train on a Wedding dress. Both her mane and tail obtained curls, flashing their pale gold coloring in the sun with each bounce as she trotted along the land.

Her occuli were an exotic color, one rare amongst those of their homeland. A bright, intoxicating blue. It defined the mistress's name, if one heard the whispering of her name; Rosabella Nicola.

- - - ~ [.: ¤ :. ] ~ - - -

That's how I'd been described multiple times. Though my brother was no longer at my side, for he'd become lovestruck with some inbred fool in our haste to escape, I was strong. I had to be, to escape from our father's iron grasp. And I did, since I now stood here, in a different world. A place where I no longer would be hounded by my father's men, no longer pressed to be something that I wasn't. Now I could be the real Me; the Me that young Lords' and Dukes' sons knew so well, though my father was oblivious to my frivolous games, and blasphemous words of courting.

But here, the tables might of turned on me. I'd adapted to the changes in culture on my adventure - I had no doubts that I could change to people's behaviors here. I was flexible, at the least.

And, as vain as I could put it, I was still as breathtaking as I had been. Long, pale golden tresses hung delicately over my facade that bore a mixture between a playful and a serious expression; curls hung like pale golden curtains down my slender, dark golden boa. My tail was still its same Wedding trail style, and just as curly, and possibly longer.

As for my pools, they were still their intoxicating blue as they'd been since birth. They now held the understanding of others as they struggled for survival, something I'd never experienced in my short life until about a year ago, and the desire to find a safe place to call home. Would I, though? Find a place to call "home", after running away from what I'd thought to be one?

-FIN?-

[Horsegirl]

<sub>"What is evil?

"Sure, there's always the fight between good and evil. Heck, even now it's happening. But still, what defines evil? Usually, the good side wins and tells the story, so the other side appears evil. But what about the other side? They can think that the other is evil and they're good, no matter what. Their cause may support attacks or forcing or whatever, but they're good in their own eyes. So, who's to say that I'm evil? I may be the nicest one in the whole dang world, but no one else will think that, because I'm labeled as evil by them. But I don't really care. My life is my life, and I'll live it my way."

Such were the thoughts of a sun-kiss'd brutalion as he made his way to the grove, for the fourth time in a short sentence. He'd come before, attracted by the feeling that a lone one was in the grove, and it had been correct. The gray was expecting, thanks to Chance's intentions, and he was waiting impatiently for her to deliver. Hopefully he'd be able to snatch her before then, or during. As soon as he found a home, he'd become her stalker, constantly watching for an opening for him to make his move. At least he'd marked her with a scar, his characteristic brand, so he could recognize the passive beauty. He'd be waiting.

Finally, on the horizon, a stand of willows came into view. Ah. Good. A smirk laced its way across the golden maw as the sun-kiss'd entered the Grove, one of the few places he felt at home. Yes, he was a stud, prone to preying on the weaker to get what he desired. As soon as the shadows passed over his gaunt frame, his senses sharpened, easily picking up all the sounds, sights, and smells of his world. he searched, going as quietly as rocky flints would allow on the crunchy forest floor. Orbs narrowed against the light, then widened quickly as a golden shape, not unlike his own, appeared through the interwoven branches. It carried the smell that he was looking for. And it was alone. He went up to the vix, sidling along near her flank, words turning juicy as he spoke.

"Well, hello, dame. I have need of your name, though you do not need mine quite yet, as it is hard to keep track of my band wih naught but a look. I suppose it is a shame you are alone in a place like this, but fear not. You will not be by yourself for very long, for I am here to take care of you. Now just hold still, and it will be all over soon...." Moving quickly, he swung around her her behind, rearing up and covering her haunches. He reached his jaws around her withers, securing a gentle hold on them, wary that the fae would protest. He didn't want to mark her hide, as his former waifs had objected to the marring. "Be still and this will not leave a mark," he whispered.</sub>