Post by Yuliya Dukhkin' on Jun 17, 2008 20:12:28 GMT -5
Yuliya relished the feeling of a light breeze on her skin, now a rare feeling since so little of this school seemed to be based outdoors, unlike her old home, where the line between indoors and outdoors was thin, blurry, and broken. But home was far away now, across an ocean and so much land. It was less important that her home was there, but so was her beloved black Arabian mare, Black Jewel. How she longed to feel her silky mane, her warm breath…it was useless now to dream. She had suffered, and now she was to suffer greater for her suffering.
A wet nose tickled her hand and an instant smile came to her face. She squatted down and peered into the happy eyes of Luna, the husky. She gave the dog a hug and then heard a bark from her other, the black lab chow mix dog named Apollo, who was as protective as the sun, and about as fierce also.
“Apollo! Be quiet! Someone might hear you and then complain.” Inwardly, she wished the well-trained dog would keep on going, though. Wake up these pampered princesses and spoiled brats from their beauty sleep this early in the morning. No, Yuliya didn’t belong to that life, she belonged to the life of a nomad Cossack, a life that had been turned away from her.
A beautiful and musical cry met her ears and swooping from the sky came a peregrine falcon, her falcon, her Streak. He alighted on her shoulder elegantly and surveyed the land around her with a cold, black-eyed glare. Even if she tried, Yuliya wouldn’t be able to fit in, and anyway, she wouldn’t. Who would want to fit in with these brats?
A wet nose tickled her hand and an instant smile came to her face. She squatted down and peered into the happy eyes of Luna, the husky. She gave the dog a hug and then heard a bark from her other, the black lab chow mix dog named Apollo, who was as protective as the sun, and about as fierce also.
“Apollo! Be quiet! Someone might hear you and then complain.” Inwardly, she wished the well-trained dog would keep on going, though. Wake up these pampered princesses and spoiled brats from their beauty sleep this early in the morning. No, Yuliya didn’t belong to that life, she belonged to the life of a nomad Cossack, a life that had been turned away from her.
A beautiful and musical cry met her ears and swooping from the sky came a peregrine falcon, her falcon, her Streak. He alighted on her shoulder elegantly and surveyed the land around her with a cold, black-eyed glare. Even if she tried, Yuliya wouldn’t be able to fit in, and anyway, she wouldn’t. Who would want to fit in with these brats?
