Post by Telea Rose on Mar 27, 2007 13:33:41 GMT -5
Emelia sat cross legged in her garden. Her head was bent down over a book entrapped within its pages. Her dogs played tagged the little Jack Russle nipping at the Saluki and darting away. The sun was bright and lovely, warming everything it touch. The cooling breeze barely stired the plants.
The book in question at the moment was George Silver's, Paradoxes of Defence. Emelia nibbled on a ribbon from her flowing sun dress. As usual the cut was that of the Renasance. She could hear the voice of his teachings as if the long dead man was standing infront of her lecturing.
The dogs explored the flowers for things to chace and pounces on, but stayed away from the large rose court. The brightly colored, multi-viriaty collection tended to have lots of thorns and for a dog's nose reaked of rose.
The open expanse of manicured lawn decorated with trees and a couple of fountains was great place for running, but the manicuring left few creatures othen then insects to pounce on. The dogs decided to trot over to the fields where an old, bay pony grazed along side a stunning, black, thoroughbred mare. They searched through the neat, fashionable barn for and traces of mice, but to no avail.
"Amby! Rosey! Come on back!" Emelia's sweet voice called them back to her. Ambrosia or Amby was there first. Emelia stroked her soft cream colored fur in greeting. Rose came running up second. Emelia smiled warmly and bent to scratch behind her rich red colored ear. She had been named for the vibrancy of red in the brown of her spots.
The book in question at the moment was George Silver's, Paradoxes of Defence. Emelia nibbled on a ribbon from her flowing sun dress. As usual the cut was that of the Renasance. She could hear the voice of his teachings as if the long dead man was standing infront of her lecturing.
The dogs explored the flowers for things to chace and pounces on, but stayed away from the large rose court. The brightly colored, multi-viriaty collection tended to have lots of thorns and for a dog's nose reaked of rose.
The open expanse of manicured lawn decorated with trees and a couple of fountains was great place for running, but the manicuring left few creatures othen then insects to pounce on. The dogs decided to trot over to the fields where an old, bay pony grazed along side a stunning, black, thoroughbred mare. They searched through the neat, fashionable barn for and traces of mice, but to no avail.
"Amby! Rosey! Come on back!" Emelia's sweet voice called them back to her. Ambrosia or Amby was there first. Emelia stroked her soft cream colored fur in greeting. Rose came running up second. Emelia smiled warmly and bent to scratch behind her rich red colored ear. She had been named for the vibrancy of red in the brown of her spots.