*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

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Herja stared sleepily into the crackling fire, her slightly damp clothes drying slowly in the night. She poked the fire a little, sending a shower of sparks flying up like startled insects. Her stomach rumbled. "Tomorrow i will feed you," she grumbled to her complaining belly. Reclining in the grass, she dozed off once more.
 
The horses body was warm to the touch, strong, powerful. She snorts and turns her head to look at Alfric. He felt calmer now, and breathing out in relief, he runs his fingers down her elegant head and down to her nose. Hushing softly as he does so, to calm her, or perhaps to calm himself. Standing beside her, he wraps his arm around her neck and gently guides her to the door. She complies, looking at him with large, curious eyes.
 
Lsky said:
The horses body was warm to the touch, strong, powerful. She snorts and turns her head to look at Alfric. He felt calmer now, and breathing out in relief, he runs his fingers down her elegant head and down to her nose. Hushing softly as he does so, to calm her, or perhaps to calm himself. Standing beside her, he wraps his arm around her neck and gently guides her to the door. She complies, looking at him with large, curious eyes.
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( :clap you ought to be a poet :plbb )
 

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