So Innocent, Pure, and Sweet, American Honey.

[• Echo]

Imprinted Since Birth

Felicity Glennane

You Know Me As

Honey

I've Roamed This Earth For

Nearly nineteen years.

I'm Distinguished As

A Human

I Originate From

Ireland

Hair Colour

Light blonde.

Eye Colour

Dark green with grey rimming the iris. "Painted Pupils", with brown spiking around the pupil.

Skin Colour

Fair, lightly tanned.

Markings

None.

Height

5.7

Weight

132

Frame

Small

Description

Fine bone structure, high, prominent cheekbones, long, slender legs, slim, lean, athletic build. Finely toned muscles, lightly tanned skin, a splash of freckles across her cheeks and nose and arms. Slightly slanted eyes, giving her more an exotic look. A face as unforgettable and beautiful as Helen of Troy.





She grew up, on the side of the road.
Where church bells ring, and strong love grows.
She grew up good,
She grew up slow,
like American Honey.

Steady as a preacher,
Free as a weed.
Couldn't wait to get going,
But wasn't quite ready to leave.
So Innocent, Pure and Sweet,
American Honey.


The sun still had yet to rise over the distant mountains, and the morning air was light and brisk, whispering the songs of the past through the leaves of the trees, a silvery dust that hitched a ride on the wings of the wind. Morning Glory buds were starting to blossom for the morning as they did each and every day, shimmering like freshly fallen snow amongst the green vines they grew on. Wildflowers danced in the soft breeze that gently caressed them, a handful of jewels tossed from a bag that grew from the ground. The barn stood draped in dark shadows, standing seemingly alone, overlooking extending pastures that stretched past the snaking stream to the woodline, running alongside the edge of the forest, covering nearly half of the meadow. The other half was dedicated to the stableyard. Two lines of stalls stood hidden behind the barn, running parallel to each other with a space big enough to drive a truck through with at least four feet on either side. Set off to the side were three roundpens, the plywood stretching high so any horse inside wouldn't be able to see out and become distracted. The arena was large and open, freshly dragged, a shed standing to one side of it full of equipment such as barrels, poles, jumps, and so on. On the side of the barn that faced all this was the rashwacks, farrier pad, and the medicine shed. And finally, there was the farm house, made of old-fashioned mahogany panelling with steps leading to the porch. Inside was a hall that wrapped around the entire house on the inside, doors leading to the rooms inside. French doors opened out to the backyard, which held an extensive garden, a back patio deck, and two weeping willows standing like sentries on either side of the nice-sized pond. The backyard was fenced in with white washed-fences, the pastures, stalls, and arena enclosed with pipe corral since some horses had tendencies to chew on wood. But the house and stable took up only about half of the area not already used up by pastures; the last quarter of the meadow was just an open field.


There's a wild, wild whisper
Blowin' in the wind,
Callin' out my name like a long lost friend.
Oh, I miss those days as the years go by,
Oh, nothin's sweeter, than summertime,
And American Honey.

Get caught in the race,
Of this crazy life.
Tryin' to be everything,
Can make you lose your mind.
I just want, to go back in time,
To American Honey, yeah.


Before even the sun had risen, Felicity "Honey" Glennane had, dressed in her normal barnwear of two black tanktops, worn, faded blue jeans, fawn colored lace-up boots, and an old forest green zip-up hoodie. She lived with her twin brother, Rylan, and her single mom, who owned the riding stable. She was turning nineteen this year in November, and she was nearing the end of her freshman year of a four-year college. But the horses were her entire life, the ones who could make her laugh when she wanted to cry. She rode to forget, but she never forgot to ride. She wasn't exactly looking for a relationship, but she gave most people a chance. Reaching the double doors of the barn, she pulled out her keys and unlocked the padlock, dragging open the sliding doors wide. A lone, grey head thrust itself out over the half door, black ears pricked forward. The mare's muzzle parted and an excited whicker escaped from her body, and Honey's beautiful face brightened with a smile at the sight of her beloved companion. Turning right, she flicked on the lightswitches just inside the room, just the first two so that the room and the barn aisle suddenly brightened with light yellow lights. Immediately the air was filled with the chorus of whinnies of the horses who had spent the night in the barn, along with a few ringing sounds of hooves pounding the concrete stall walls and doors. Walking with a swift pace down the aisle, she stopped in front of the fourth left stall where the grey head was still looking over. A slender neck arched gracefully as te mare snuffled Honey's blonde hair as she waited patiently while the slim girl pulled the bag of apple slices from her jacket pocket. Opening the small door to her left that opened to the hay rack, Honey dumped the contents of the bag into the grain bottom, reclosing the door as the grey mare moved towards the treats. Honey stood there for a moment, tracing the engraved, black lettering on the cool, gold plaque, reading the letters that formed the name of the mare: Irish Dannsair. And below that, slightly smaller, the mare's barn name was also written: Renomee. The sound of a truck driving up the gravel driveway captured Honey's attention, and her arm fell from the plaque. She knew it would be Ty, the hired barn hand who helped Honey and Rylan with the stable and the horses. The other trainer, Monica, wouldn't be here for another hour or so, but the students and others who boarded their horses here usually came as soon as the stable opened in another half hour or so at seven. Smiling, she all but skipped out of the barn. Just another day where she got paid a small allowance for doing what she loved just as much as the singing career she was chasing: training and working with horses.


Gone for so, long, now,
Gotta get back to her somehow,
To American Honey.

Mmmm, yeah yeah

Oh, there's a wild, wild whisper
Blowin' in the wind,
Callin' out my name like a long lost friend.
Oh, I miss those days as the years go by,
Oh, nothin's sweeter, than summertime,
And American Honey...
And American Honey.

[• Echo]

-bump-

[• Echo]

-bump-

[• Echo]

-bump-

[• Echo]

-bump again? Oh dear-

[Saviour]

Ty~

The crisp morning air brought smells of dew and pollen. The spring time was Hell, no sleep for me. Grumbling, I stretch my sore muscles and sit up in bed, rubbing my face. The sound of a distressed heffer made me jump. "Really?" I said in disbelief and frustration. Throwing on my wranglers and my boots, I open the door. Freshly warmed air tickled through my hair as I mount my palomino mare. Grabbing my hat off the post as I kick her into a canter. She reacted quickly, carrying me to the scene. "Damn mutts" I mumbled and reached into my saddle bag, pulling out my 22. "Get!" I yelled, firing the shotgun at the ground. The pesky coyote yelped in surprise and ditched the attack on a calf. I place the gun back in my bag and tie the leather strap. Vitesse, my mare, had remained calm and ready throughout the entire thing. I patted her gently and pulled back on the reins to back her up. Checking my cattle quickly, I kick Vitesse into a trot and head back for my house and truck.
I turn the key to my Ford and it roared to life. A small grin peeked through my gruff appearance, but it quickly fades as I drive out into the pasture. Leaving the truck in drive and using a brick to hold the petal down, I jump into the back and cut the thin red string of the hay. The cows were already trailing the slow moving truck and I through a chunk to them. The hay left small fibers floating in the air as it did so. In a rythmic pattern, I finished the feeding and, once again, returned home.
I jumped into a cold bath and cleaned off, patting my collie who decided to [finally] emerge from her slumber. Dressing in wranglers and boots, including my hat and long sleeved white shirt, I jump in my truck and through the tarp over the back to keep hay from flying everywhere. After a short ride, I reach the barn and get out, slamming the silver door of my truck. "What do I have to do today?" I said with a cocky tone littering my deep, southern twang.

[Is that ok?]

[• Echo]

( I'm lost... )

[Saviour]

[sorry... so no on this topic?]

[• Echo]

( Well, I had meant to delete this a long time ago since I posted it in January and it never got replies... I just found it a little harder to understand your post and... I don't know, I can't even think today I'm just, wow... )

[Saviour]

[oh, sorry]

[Emoticon]

(Is it still open? If it is, Then Can I reply?)

[• Echo]

( Well, I don't know, I guess it's up to you really, but Saviour can still reply if they want to or something... I'm just really not sure if this post will get too far, because it's been inactive for so long, but you're welcome to respond if you want. )

[Saviour]

[ I dunno it's been a while since I made the post and all. I agree with Echo.... ]

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