WELCOME BACK Guest!
ACP   MCP                           
Endless
Diamond Sky



Profile
Personal Photo

No Photo

Options
Custom Title
merida eileen macdunn doesn't have a custom title currently.
Personal Info
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Interests
No Information
Other Information
CANON: Merida
HEIGHT: 5'7''
QUOTE: Our fate lives within us, you only have to be brave enough to see it.
AGE: 20
ALIAS: Leigh
MOVIE: Brave
CANON GIF: https://s6.postimg.org/rzqm11hdd/ezgif-2-7b6a287976.gif
APPLICATION: http://endlessdiamondsky.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=6778&st=0&#entry21314
SHIPPER: 6778
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
THEME MUSIC: No Information
LYRICS: When cold winds are calling
And the sky is clear and bright,
Misty mountains sing and beckon,
Lead me out into the light...
I will ride, I will fly,
Chase the wind and touch the sky,
I will fly,
Chase the wind and touch the sky..
PROFILE GIF: https://s6.postimg.org/nckjz9u0h/ezgif-2-d8c178aa3c.gif
SEXUALITY: Straight
TRACKER: No Information
Statistics
Joined: 24-March 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Today at 05:28 pm
Local Time: Apr 27 2017, 09:20 PM
39 posts (1.1 per day)
( 0.17% of total forum posts )
Contact Information
AIM No Information
Yahoo No Information
GTalk No Information
MSN No Information
SKYPE No Information
Unread Message Message: Click here
Unread Message Email: Private
Signature
View Signature

merida eileen macdunn

HEROINE

Topics
Posts
Comments
Friends
My Content
Apr 24 2017, 11:03 AM
[dohtml]<center><div id="t"><div id="timg"><div class="thing"><div class="taps">

Princess Merida

</div></div></div></div>

<div id="p">

The outline of mountains, inviting shelter of trees, with lazy clouds drifting across the sky, the afternoon was sunny, and nearly perfect. It was familiar enough to make Merida feel welcomed, different enough to satisfy her need for exploration. The lake beckoned in shimmering silence, calling her onward, her steps carrying her closer to the water's edge.<p>

If she closed her eyes, Merida could almost pretend she was home. Home. Her real home. Not on the other side, not in San Francisco. The ancient kingdom, land of mists, standing stones, and brave clans. Castle DunBroch rising from the rock itself, her father's laughter in the halls, her mother proud and dignified, her brothers at their mischief, and Merida herself, free as the wind, twice as untamed. That sense of home brought the ample heaviness of homesickness to her heart. Her home, her world, had been swallowed by The Darkness. Everything that once was, was no longer. Not even closing her eyes, and pretending, could change that fact.<p>

Crossing the portal had not been her plan for the day. She didn't have to work, which gave her the opportunity to explore options of activity. Merida had stepped out her apartment building, onto the street and was hit with a sudden burst of restlessness. All the plans she had made for her day off evaporated, leaving a desperate urgency to go somewhere far away from San Francisco. She needed a place away from traffic, away from buildings, away from the noise, and the maddening cycle of daily living. Before noon had set in, she had dressed, packed her lunch and headed for the park. So, she had come here, to the lake hidden in the arms of tree and rock. Here was a place she could think and escape from the life of the lass who lived on the other side.<p>

Merida moved to the lake's shore, following the waterline into the tall grasses. The soft plod of her boots and rustle of her underskirt's hem traced a path into a grassy area. Her gaze kept settling upon the lake itself. Waters cool and clear, reflections cast upon the deep mirrored surface. As she moved closer, her own reflection came into view. She wore a sturdy woolen kirtle, belted with a small useful pouch, and carried a satchel of leather on her shoulder, wild red hair catching the slightest hints of breeze. <p>

Plopping down in the grass, Merida removed her boots, one by one, setting them at the base of a large rock. Her leather satchel was opened, revealing her packed lunch. Bread, cheese, walnuts, and apples. Merida set aside the food, taking up her leather skin, heading straight for the lake. Refilling the leather skin, she replaced the stopper, screwing it tightly. Cupping a hand, she dipped it into the water and took a small drink. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Merida dried it on her skirt, and settled down beside the edge of the lake. <p>

After a moment, she gave into the temptation, allowing her toes to touch the cool surface. Aahhh. That felt good. Feet dangling, and clipping the water in tiny splashes, Merida absently began to hum an old song. The lyrics slowly came to mind, words falling from her lips.<p>

"Far frae my hame I wander, but still my thoughts return.<br>
To my ain folk ower yonder, in the shieling by the burn. <br>
I see the cosy ingle, and the mist abune the brae, <br>
And joy and sadness mingle, as I list some auld-warld lay."<br>
<p>

</div>

<div class="lyr">deep waters hold reflections</div>
<div style="width: 310px; text-align: right; margin: 3px;"><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=7072">❥❥</a></div></center>

<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Roboto|Oswald' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<style> #t { width: 305px; height: 115px; background: #fbfbfb; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; } #timg { width: 305px; height: 115px; background-image: url(https://s6.postimg.org/nddjpc5o1/424947bd7d9ca3efdaf12041ce217ddf.jpg); background-size: 315px auto; } .thing { opacity: 0.0; transition-duration: 0.6s; -moz-transition-duration: 0.6s; -webkit-transition-duration: 0.6s; -o-transition-duration: 0.6s; background: #000; color: #fff; text-align: justify; width: 305px; height: 85px; padding-top: 30px; } .thing:hover { opacity: .78 } .taps { font: 30px oswald; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; } .taps sub { display: block; font: 10px roboto; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px; text-transform: uppercase; } #p { width: 295px; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; margin-top: 10px; font: 10px roboto; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 10px; } #p b, #p i { color: #8EA414; }.lyr { width: 295px; font: 20px oswald; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #8EA414; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; }
</style>[/dohtml]

niyaha yoki tashunke|| Outfit || OOC: hope this is okay?
Apr 20 2017, 11:26 AM
[dohtml]<center><div id="t"><div id="timg"><div class="thing"><div class="taps">

Princess Merida

</div></div></div></div>

<div id="p">

The forest had eyes. Merida felt them upon her every step. The constant feeling of being watched never abated, instead it became part of the scenery. The thick green of trees yielded small rays of sunlight, illuminating patches of moss, rock, bramble and the occasional wildflower. Yes, even flowers could bloom on the forest floor given enough dew and sun to sustain them. <p>

Merida breathed in deeply, allowing the scent of aged pine, oak and elder to fill her senses. Even the light odor of dirt seemed rich and clean compared to the smells car fuel and pollution beyond The Portal. How odd it was, to live there and come here. The two realms co-existed in a state Merida could not even fathom. Indeed, in the days after crossing back over, her memories would begin to shift into dreamlike remembrance. The vivid imagery of a tapestry faded by ruins of time. That was why she frequented The Portal, to make sure she never truly forgot. While she was here, it was real again. <P>

For now, she was Princess Merida. She wore a dress of deep green, it was simply cut, in the style her mother had been fond of, girdled low at the waist. Light stitching adorned the outer sleeves, hem and collar. Her cloak was green, a shade richer than her dress, the colors intended to merge and mingle in the woodland surrounds. The clasp was a brooch of Celtic design, matching the embroidery of her belt. She wore short, study boots, and had her bow slung over her shoulder, quiver showcasing rows of neat arrow fletchings. There was small pouch at her belt, she had not brought many supplies, she wasn't staying after the sun lowered in the west. Merida loved adventure, but even her reckless nature could find reluctance when confronted with evils of The Mysterious Forest. Besides, this was a recreational visit, not a mission. <P>

Merida moved about the wood, with the stealthy foot of a tracker. She blended into the sway of shadows, her cloak rustling softly against the overgrowth as she passed. Merida had always enjoyed her independence, and never minded being alone. Except, she had not been alone, not really. Only now that his presence was absent did she realize how much she missed Angus. The shire horse, with his sleek black coat, and heavy hooves had been her best friend. He shared her misadventures and quests with faithful companionship, and a watchful eye. His reward, a bucket of oats and a good brushing. She half expected Angus to come trotting up behind her, but no, she was alone, utterly alone. <p>

The soft trod of boots halted, Merida observed a large gnarled tree, the pattern of the trunk was gnarled and boisterous. It would make a decent target. She needed distraction. Un-slinging her bow, Merida selected an arrow from her quiver. Setting the fletching to the bow-string, she took aim, drawing back the instinctive distance needed to make a clean shot. She sighted and released. The arrow soared from her bow, zinging through the air, and giving a sounding THUD as it struck the tree trunk. A small satisfied smile lit her mouth. She reached for another arrow.<p>

Merida turned her head abruptly, sending a tumble of wild red curls over her shoulder. She could have sworn something had flitted near her head. Her light eyes scanned the surrounds with caution. There was something in the breeze. The feeling of being watched was manifesting into a strong sensation. It felt uncanny. "Hello?" Her attempt at casual sounded too apprehensive for her own ears. "Is somebody there? You can come out, I won't be causing any harm." The statement seemed paradoxical since she was holding a bow, arrow notched.<p>

</div>

<div class="lyr">where dark roots hide secrets</div>
<div style="width: 310px; text-align: right; margin: 3px;"><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=7072">❥❥</a></div></center>

<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Roboto|Oswald' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<style> #t { width: 305px; height: 115px; background: #fbfbfb; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; } #timg { width: 305px; height: 115px; background-image: url(https://s6.postimg.org/v7p4k6bht/s-d72a5c9867c0c4bbf828d57f07317b0830d88c53.jpg); background-size: 315px auto; } .thing { opacity: 0.0; transition-duration: 0.6s; -moz-transition-duration: 0.6s; -webkit-transition-duration: 0.6s; -o-transition-duration: 0.6s; background: #000; color: #fff; text-align: justify; width: 305px; height: 85px; padding-top: 30px; } .thing:hover { opacity: .78 } .taps { font: 30px oswald; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; } .taps sub { display: block; font: 10px roboto; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px; text-transform: uppercase; } #p { width: 295px; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; margin-top: 10px; font: 10px roboto; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 10px; } #p b, #p i { color: #8EA414; }.lyr { width: 295px; font: 20px oswald; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #8EA414; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; }
</style>[/dohtml]

gary cornelius osborn || Outfit
Apr 12 2017, 11:02 PM
[dohtml]<center><div id="t"><div id="timg"><div class="thing"><div class="taps">

Merida Eileen MacDunn

</div></div></div></div>

<div id="p">
The hospital was white, stark, smelling of metal and medicated cleanliness. Merida hated it. She had no certain comparison for this place, her mind feeling fogged and confused much of the time, but she hated it with certainty. It felt good to be certain about something, even negatively. Certainty was an elusive concept presently. Few things seemed certain, only feelings that came and went like the ebbs and flows of an evening tide. She knew she felt caged, and everything around her felt wrong. The wrongness wasn't just the surrounds however, it was deeper rooted. She didn't belong here. She belonged somewhere else... or at least, she had once. The sense of belonging was somewhere along green hills, mountains, clear skies, waterfalls, forest trails and a castle that looked like it was built from the rock itself. <p>

The nurses hadn't been back for a time, which offered some respite from their bothersome company. They reminded Merida of bees buzzing around a woven hive, busily moving and flitting about her till she wanted to scream. Why they vexed her so much was a bit of a puzzle. They were nice to her. Everyone was nice, that was what made them so blasted irritating. <p>

Merida sat propped against stiff pillows, tucked under stiffer sheets. Her fiery hair fell around the shoulders of her hospital gown in an unruly tangle of curls. One of the nurses had unwisely suggested the girl might like it cut shorter, to which she received a sharp verbal bruising. It wasn't that Merida wanted to argue, or to lash out, words just flew out her mouth faster than you could say: "Awa' an bile yer heid". Maybe she could be more diplomatic, or at least more tactful, if her head didn't hurt so much. <p>

The Doctor said she was improving. She could sit up now for longer periods without getting dizzy, and when she was allowed out of bed, her vision didn't swim nearly as much as it had previously. Still, the headaches were troublesome, getting worse whenever Merida tried to focusing on remembering. It was as if, her mind was blocking out memories like a soldier might guard a postern gate. The harder she attempted to infiltrate those locked memories, the more guarded they became. At least now she had some grasp of what memories were. The first days had been dark blankness. She was asked what seemed impossible questions, and had no inkling of an answer. It terrified her. Thankfully, that had passed, leaving in its stead a sense of nostalgia for a story she had read long ago, the story that had been her life as Princess Merida of DunBroch. <p>

At present, she was not a princess, or at least not one in the sense she had been, in that place so far away. She was just a girl, in a hospital bed, wearing an annoyingly thin patient gown (that had lack of proper closure) a plastic bracelet on her wrist, and confined to this abominable room for more hours than she cared to count. Boredom had set in, so a notebook was set on her lap, and lists were being made, memories jotted down, a good deal of doodling was being produced, all with a lackluster attitude. Merida began to absently chew on the eraser of the pencil. She studied the doodle on her pad, noting the lines that made up a rather poor attempt at capturing the outline of a shire horse. The tail was off. It needed to be thicker. Merida began to add extra lines to the horse's tail.<p>

The door opened, and a nurse appeared, her cheerful smile was enough to give Merida the collywobbles. "You have a visitor, dear." <p>

Looking up from her drawing, Merida eyed the woman with a deadpan expression. "Is that so...?" Was it some type of trick? Of course it was. Merida was wiser now. The last time a nurse had announced a visitor, it had been a nasty little shrew with a needle injection that was shot into her arm. Merida had managed to get a whack with her pillow at the wicked little Trow. Her arm tingled just thinking about the horrid sharp needle piercing her tender skin. Lying her pencil aside, Merida folded her arms. "Well, I don't think we'll have any of that today, thanks all the same." Her light blue eyes twinkled with challenge. <p>

The nurse made a placating gesture. "Having some company will be a nice change for you. It doesn't have to be a long visit." Still smiling in her uncanny way, the nurse stepped from the room, leaving the door ajar with a hand hold. "She's ready to see you, go right in." The nurse's voice carried over, chilling Merida. She began cursing the evil fate that had brought her another unwanted visit, eyes peeled at whoever dared to walk into the room.<p>

</div>

<div class="lyr">WHAT HAS FATE BROUGHT?</div>
<div style="width: 310px; text-align: right; margin: 3px;"><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=7072">❥❥</a></div></center>

<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Roboto|Oswald' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<style> #t { width: 305px; height: 115px; background: #fbfbfb; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; } #timg { width: 305px; height: 115px; background-image: url(https://s2.postimg.org/5ik9abl3d/brave-5.jpg); background-size: 315px auto; } .thing { opacity: 0.0; transition-duration: 0.6s; -moz-transition-duration: 0.6s; -webkit-transition-duration: 0.6s; -o-transition-duration: 0.6s; background: #000; color: #fff; text-align: justify; width: 305px; height: 85px; padding-top: 30px; } .thing:hover { opacity: .78 } .taps { font: 30px oswald; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; } .taps sub { display: block; font: 10px roboto; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px; text-transform: uppercase; } #p { width: 295px; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; margin-top: 10px; font: 10px roboto; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 10px; } #p b, #p i { color: #8EA414; }.lyr { width: 295px; font: 20px oswald; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #8EA414; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; }
</style>[/dohtml]

willow ailsa winslet- ||OOC: sorry its so long, hope it works||
Apr 4 2017, 01:32 PM
[dohtml]<center><div id="t"><div id="timg"><div class="thing"><div class="taps">

Merida Eileen MacDunn

</div></div></div></div>

<div id="p">

A place for everything, and everything in its place. What a far cry that was from actuality. In Merida's world, everything was displaced, and there was no place for her to belong Her apartment at Haven Hill was disorderly at best, and an untidy disaster at worst. She had come home in a less than cheery mood, and suddenly the clutter of her space could not be ignored. With a cardboard box, she began collecting items that were no longer going to plague her. Small odds and ins she had acquired back when she had first taken up residence at Haven Hill. The activity was achieved by raw energy, brought on from a day of being cooped up in a bookstore.<p>

Not long after, Merida came bounding down the stairs of the building, with the intent to drop the box off at one of the charity offices. She had music in her ears, and hunger pangs in her belly, which accounted for the distraction of her mind. An undone shoelace was her undoing, just as she was reaching the last few steps, she tripped. "Ach!" Merida was agile and quick, and hurriedly flailed her arms, grabbing the staircase railing, and in so doing, sent the cardboard box flying down the remaining steps. The box's contents spilled and scattered, littering the floor with household items, books, figurines, clothing, and a bottle cap collection she had only entertained for a few months before growing bored with it. It was a perfectly lovely mess.<p>

Pulling the earbuds from her ears, and stuffing them into her jean pocket, Merida gave a heated sigh. Her heart had jumped at her near fall, and was still pounding as she sluggishly stomped down the remaining steps. Overlooking the mess before her, Merida groaned. "Couldn't have created a bigger guddle, if I'd been trying!" It felt unfair. The entire day had been one big heap of unfairness, now topped with a douse of more. <p>

Dropping carelessly to her knees, she upturned the cardboard box. Most of the discarded items had not been of a breakable nature, just a couple of terracotta flower pots, and a teacup that had already been chipped. The pots and cup had done their dirty work all the same, splinters lay among the other items, showering terracotta remains in all directions. Disgustedly, Merida began to try and collect the less damaged things, shaking them free of debris. She was so mad, she felt like bursting into tears. No, she was not going to cry. Not over something as stupid as this. The determination to keep tears away, only made her expression fierce. She was tried, hungry and restless, three ingredients making up a dangerous mixture. <p>

</div>

<div class="lyr">TOUCH THE SKY</div>
<div style="width: 310px; text-align: right; margin: 3px;"><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=7072">❥❥</a></div></center>

<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Roboto|Oswald' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<style> #t { width: 305px; height: 115px; background: #fbfbfb; padding: 5px; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; } #timg { width: 305px; height: 115px; background-image: url(https://s6.postimg.org/fk4x49yk1/doubletake.jpg); background-size: 315px auto; } .thing { opacity: 0.0; transition-duration: 0.6s; -moz-transition-duration: 0.6s; -webkit-transition-duration: 0.6s; -o-transition-duration: 0.6s; background: #000; color: #fff; text-align: justify; width: 305px; height: 85px; padding-top: 30px; } .thing:hover { opacity: .78 } .taps { font: 30px oswald; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; } .taps sub { display: block; font: 10px roboto; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px; text-transform: uppercase; } #p { width: 295px; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; margin-top: 10px; font: 10px roboto; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 10px; } #p b, #p i { color: #8EA414; }.lyr { width: 295px; font: 20px oswald; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; color: #8EA414; padding: 10px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #e0e0e0; }
</style>[/dohtml]

isabella grace clare - ||Outfit||
Apr 2 2017, 12:11 PM

'i ache for something that has no name
IT'S ONE OF THOSE DAYS WHERE YOUR HEART FEELS LIKE RAIN'


The library had become a retreat of sorts. Strange as it sounded, it was nice once in awhile to feel the security of thick walls, not unlike a fortress of stone. Not that Merida liked spending time indoors. In fact, she made a point to stay out and about as much as possible. Outside, she could wonder the city, ride her bike to the park, or browse street shops. Inside, she was left to the confines of solitude. Too much time to think. Thinking was less inviting than doing. Thinking was a labyrinth, the pathways winding in confusing circles, leading onward in directions she did not want to go. Maybe that was the reason she had started coming to the library in the first place. It offered 'somewhere to be' without the requirement of having to be particularly driven toward one thing or another. It offered freedom.

Merida moved along the rows of books. With an aimless air that hinged between laziness and restlessness, she traced her fingertips over the volumes, mouthing the titles in a murmur of disinterest. She paused over a large book with a faded title, pulled it halfway out to make out the cover: 'Duty and Leisure: The Life of Medieval Noblewomen'. Then with a sigh, she rolled her eyes, and pushed it non too gently back between neighboring books. Continuing on her way, she selected a few of titles at random, 'Pyramids of Egypt', 'Everest', 'The Grand Canyon', 'The Most Haunted Places in Scotland',and 'Road Trips of The Desert'... not serious reading, just something to pass the time.

With her stack of selected books, the fiery haired girl headed toward the area with tables and chairs, zigzagging through a few empty aisles, making progress to her destination. She was dressed unobtrusively, jeans, boots, tee, and a short sleeve over-sized sweater. A beaded bracelet, she had made herself, was on her left wrist, a canvas messenger bag slung over her shoulder, bouncing against her hip as she walked. Her long hair was down, frizzy, she hadn't bothered to wrestle with it after her shower. Some days there was no point. Today had been one of those days.

As she neared the tables, she slipped into an aisle, noting the categories had shifted into fictional titles. One book caught her interest enough to halt her stride. Shifting her stack to one arm, Merida paused, head cocking sideways, eyes glancing upward toward the shelf above her head. Reaching for the book, her fingers brushed the cover, seeking a hold to pull it from the shelf. It was dark blue, with decorative swirls running along the binding, the title read, 'The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Celtic Myth and Folklore'. Biting her bottom lip, she raised to her tiptoes and managed to drag the book from it's lofty perch. "Well, now, that wasn't so hard." she murmured to herself with evident satisfaction, rearranging her books in grasp.

With a sense of triumph she strode down the aisle, until she heard a heavy THUD, followed by more small thuds. Merida flinched, squinting one eye, a half silent groan forming at her month. She didn't need to look back, the source of the sound was obvious. There would be books scattered on the top shelf, and probably on the floor. Merida hurriedly departed the aisle, putting distance between herself and the landslide of books. It wasn't her fault! Not really. The shelf was too high to begin with. Why put the more interesting titles in the most precarious places? She could have asked someone, true. But why bother librarians when she was perfectly capable of handling her book choices herself.

Merida reached the reading area, her favorite spot was by the windows where the day's light spilled into the corner providing warmth and the taste of afternoon sunshine. She was slightly breathless from her escape, and felt frazzled. She dumped the pile of books on the table, un-slung her messenger bag, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor near the table leg. The strap laid outward, creating the perfect snare for a foot. Any passerby could unknowingly trip, and find their shoe lassoed. Merida paid no heed, the bag already forgotten as she settled into a chair. She picked up the Everest book, as she opened it, her eyes shifted toward 'The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Celtic Myth and Folklore'.

Casting Everest aside for later adventuring, she took up the thick bound book, and opened it. Skipping the introduction, she began looking over the index of creatures, gods and figures, fingertips tracing names strange and familiar, worlds amazing, fantastic, beautiful, eerie, all but lost to the ravages of time. The book called to her, making her feel both unsettled and secure. It felt of magic, of dark forest paths, ruins, and standing stones. A voice unbidden came into her mind, crisp, and clear, "Legends are lessons, and they ring with truths!" Merida knew the voice. There were days she couldn't remember the pitch or tone, but she knew it as well as her own. She turned a page, and stopped on an entry titled 'Kelpie'. The strap of her messenger bag still providing a dangerous lure, as if the lass had set the trap on a hunter's inclination.


||TAG: none ||Outfit||
Last Visitors


Apr 25 2017, 11:32 AM




Apr 21 2017, 04:23 AM




Apr 20 2017, 04:56 PM



Comments
No comments posted.
Add Comment

static affiliates: now accepting