|
Post by Hud Levine on Aug 20, 2012 18:41:33 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][style=width: 500px; height: 700px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 12px; text-align:justify; color: #333; line-height: 110%;]
[style=margin-left: 15px;] [style=height:200px; width:420px; margin-left: 25px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 2px; margin-bottom: 25px; padding: 2px; text-align: left; overflow: auto;] Dolie was a rather lax mother. She allowed her children as much freedom as they liked. After all, what had her childhood been but a big, solitary vigil toward happiness? If she could do it, so could Vakasa and Rika.
Today Vakasa found himself happily practicing his flight. They'd grown in a while back but he'd not yet mastered soaring the thermals like his parents. His mother was quite an accomplished flier, so how could he be any less? His young, lean, newly-developed wings beat fiercely as the growing stallion scampered this way and that, preparing for takeoff. At two years old, he could manage a respectable pattern. While he couldn't exactly measure up to Mako or Dolie's skills quite yet, his ambition soared higher than the clouds.
The strapping young almost-stallion kicked up large clods of wet sand as he galloped across the sandbars of Whaka-Ma, dreaming of his future, far-off excursions into the great unknown: the Mainland.
[/style][/style]
|
[/color][/size] [/style][/style][/td][td][/td] [/tr][/table][/center]
|
|