[center] [img=http://s6.postimg.org/a69rjg31t/gggg.jpg] [/center] A ran-down farm of sord that bred horses lay, cuddled in the trees that cast darker shadows than the mask of midnight would bestow. A sniffle of distant whinnies and snorts accompanied the night, the barn of which the owners lived in shed no bright lights or guard dogs to sway thieves from a valuable resource- horses. Deimos hummed softly to the Raven steed she’d planned to “permanently borrow’ from a ranch she’d laid eyes upon from a forestry path she traveled often alone for awhile, studying the patterns of the whereabouts of the owners and horses. Eventually, she picked out one horse, strikingly magnificent with well-built legs and a humble personality. It wasn't difficult to put her thieving skill into action as the tamed horse came quietly, tempted by the bunch of carrots she hid under her cape. Her soft, slender fingers stroked the furry cheek of the tall breast which snorted it’s compliance with the half-elf, tenderly taking the bridle she supplied. [b] “Good. I’ll think of a name for you.” [/b] Wrapping one shaky hand in the horse's curly mane, she hoisted her thin body upon onto the animal, pressing her legs into the animal’s side in case the unpredictable animal wasn’t as tame as she thought he was. The horse subtly looked back at the wide-eyed girl upon his back and turned his attention to a tree, which seemed more entertaining at the time. Did this horse just look at her with disapproval? Deimos’s stomach clenched with nervousness despite the numerous times the half-elf has stolen without being caught- there was certainly a first time for everything. She never stole out of pride or excessive want, she stole because it was the best way a half-elf could make a living anywhere, in her eyes . She received a monthly pension from her elder parents every month after she’d grown old enough to leave the house. They never gauged her time to leave by age, but rather how well they believed the half-elf would be able to avoid hunters. Deimos was quick and stealthy on her feet, however, such a horse would travel five times as fast as she. With the increasing intelligence and income of the government, she had begun to spot even more hunter parties utilizing war horses. She laid a hand on the horse’s flank and cued him forwards- this animal could be her life. [i] Clop, clop, clop [/i] The thundering of the beast’s hooves fell naturally under the blonde half-elf. Deimos constantly raised a hand to pull up her hood to hide her human-elfish ears, pulling down an eye patch over the eye that shinned a bizarre purple under the moonlight. She wore an elegant red and gold cloak that streamed behind her in the wind, flashing a short green elven skirt and sleeves with bracers that had darker green ends. Cover her lower body was a short green elven skirt with a small white cloth and a belt with four leaf clovers and a four leaf, celtic-designed clover buckle. Her thin, pale legs trickled from her waist, meeting her thigh-high elven boots. Thick blonde-silver hair flowed out of her hood, whisking through the hair currents violently as she rode away from the farm, through a path she never took before. So honed in on her successful steal, her surroundings were but a blur to the teenage girl, and the incoming horse cart on a narrow path seemed to come out of nowhere to the oblivious half-elf. She had enough time to see the one of the rider’s eyes- a black sclera and slit purple irises before her own eyes would clench close and pull back on the reins of her new steed. The horse shirked, skidding into the cart regardless of his owner’s cues. Deimos was jolted forwards, forced to clutch onto the beast’s rippling shoulders. Odd how she had not feared the injuries of such a crash but rather who she crashed into. Their cart would receive no more than a dent and their own frightened horse- Deimos pulling her horse to a halt had worked, halfway. They were at a dead stop. She connected eyes with both the cart’s occupants while smelling the distant, stinging burn of a fire, a funnel of smoke she spot would raise into the atmosphere. [b]"My bad. Quite a mysterious, dark night.”[/b] She spat out a dull apology, blinking her one red eye as the other was covered by an eyepatch , shoving her hood back over her head and preparing to slam her heels into her steed.