Paradise. [P A F P]

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    Elusive Says


    [size=7pt] His black, messy hair flopped against his eyes, just for him to brush them out of his face again, to reveal bright, vibrant green eyes. He looked ahead, his feet dragged along the ground, for he had walked quite a long way. Though it was almost over now, he was almost home.
    He was going to a private school, the one with dorms and strict rules, and curfews and mean teachers and all of that junk, and he had ran away for the longest time. He knew that almost no one would remember him, he hadn't exactly made his mark when he was there, but now he was back, and he wasn't the same kid he was before.
    Back then, he was pudgy, and very unappealing. But now, he lost a lot of weight, and changed his appearance from a little insecure buy, to a confidently built attractive one, and he wouldn't go back for anything.
    He now smiled mischievously as he edged the front door.
    "Here we go, Chase..." he said quietly to himself, then he burst open the doors.


    {Note that I'd prefer this semi-advanced, and with your first post you can jump right in, you don't need my permission (:}
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0][fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; text-shadow: 0pt 0pt 10pt #008A94; margin-left: -20px; margin-bottom: -30px;][align=center][size=46pt][color=#00A9B5][b]Gale[/fancypost]
    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; margin-top: -21px; margin-left: -20px; letter-spacing: 2px;][align=center][size=15pt][color=white][b]A nightingale may be plain but the beauty of its song surpasses all words...[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; margin-top: -19px; margin-left: -20px; letter-spacing: 2px;][align=center][size=10][color=white][b]| { Tinuviel Nightingale } |[/fancypost]
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    Feathery strands of short-cropped copper hair were teased and tousled by the wind, falling over the smooth, pale forehead and into the clear sea-green eyes of the young girl. She stood, leaning on a wall outside the private school, waiting. She didn't know what she was waiting for, or who. She'd been waiting her whole life.


    Her long, delicate musician's fingers closed around the handle of a large case in her right hand, and a string of instrument cases - flute, violin, trumpet, mandolin and more - tied together and dragging from her left. She evidently had rich parents, but by her standard of dress, it was equally evident that she simply didn't care.
    To her mind, horses were the one bonus of her rich family and old money. She had several at the academy stables - a thoroughbred, a Lippizaner, an Arab... Only the best for the talented rich kid.
    But her fourth horse was her favourite - a scruffy dapple gray pinto Kaimanawa mare, totally wild and her personal project.
    Anyone watching could have seen the head lift, the face set into determined lines. "Get ready, Cass." She murmured.


    She didn't even noticed that black-haired boy a few metres away.


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    [align=center][sup][color=white] #Whisper thy name