Post by Sylph on Feb 14, 2018 19:35:10 GMT
Very seldom did the mare leave the warmth and familiarity of the woodlands. Especially to traipse closer to where the forsaken wretches often tread. Dusty colored auds twisted to and fro before pinning against her narrow skull. Charcoal tinted pillars shifted over the frozen ground, dislodging pieces of brittle ground as she went. The slender mare began her descent from the steppe, thick hooves moving diligently over the slight incline. Winter was settling nicely over the Dawnlands and neighboring territory. Thick snow and bitter gusts of wind tousled her mane.
Vibrant saffron hued eyes scouted the area, following the pleasant scent of freshwater. The Strip was considered a bridge between both sides, but she considered it almost like a family heirloom. Her family had forged the treaty to call this land neutral and thus felt the need to protect it. Huffing a self satisfied breath, the mare was pleased to find the lake unoccupied. She was in no mood for casual conversation, the mere hint of Wastelander scents on the breeze sent heat boiling through her bloodstream. The last thing she wanted was to cross paths with those lowland, murderous scum. Today was to be a peaceful day, she would get a drink and rest beside the lazy water.
Tension coiled beneath her dusty brown pelt, striped legs shifting, anxiously. She hadn’t slept the night before. The screams returned, ringing in her ears when she closed her eyes. Finding the edge of the lake, she lowered her head to take long pulls of water. The crisp, cold liquid made her more aware despite the growing fatigue. It was early in the day, the sun beginning it’s ascent. Though it only provided a slight fleck of warmth over her pelt, it was still appreciated. It was quiet which, to any other equine, would be comforting, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
The Dawnlands had been without leadership and there was talk of a monarch in the Wastelands. Anger boiled within her, laying dormant but fit to overflow upon sight. She would eradicate their filth from this land, even if she had to face them herself. She kept her head down, content to drink until her thirst was quenched, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. In a flash of motion, she whipped her head back, golden eyes flashing with aggression. Rearing up, she slammed her front hooves deep into the frozen ground, stretching her neck to peer between the shrubbery surrounding the lake.
Someone was here.
”Come out and show yourself before I pull you out myself.” She seethed, threateningly. So much for peace and quiet. Heaven help the poor soul who encountered a mare in a fatigued rage.
Vibrant saffron hued eyes scouted the area, following the pleasant scent of freshwater. The Strip was considered a bridge between both sides, but she considered it almost like a family heirloom. Her family had forged the treaty to call this land neutral and thus felt the need to protect it. Huffing a self satisfied breath, the mare was pleased to find the lake unoccupied. She was in no mood for casual conversation, the mere hint of Wastelander scents on the breeze sent heat boiling through her bloodstream. The last thing she wanted was to cross paths with those lowland, murderous scum. Today was to be a peaceful day, she would get a drink and rest beside the lazy water.
Tension coiled beneath her dusty brown pelt, striped legs shifting, anxiously. She hadn’t slept the night before. The screams returned, ringing in her ears when she closed her eyes. Finding the edge of the lake, she lowered her head to take long pulls of water. The crisp, cold liquid made her more aware despite the growing fatigue. It was early in the day, the sun beginning it’s ascent. Though it only provided a slight fleck of warmth over her pelt, it was still appreciated. It was quiet which, to any other equine, would be comforting, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
The Dawnlands had been without leadership and there was talk of a monarch in the Wastelands. Anger boiled within her, laying dormant but fit to overflow upon sight. She would eradicate their filth from this land, even if she had to face them herself. She kept her head down, content to drink until her thirst was quenched, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. In a flash of motion, she whipped her head back, golden eyes flashing with aggression. Rearing up, she slammed her front hooves deep into the frozen ground, stretching her neck to peer between the shrubbery surrounding the lake.
Someone was here.
”Come out and show yourself before I pull you out myself.” She seethed, threateningly. So much for peace and quiet. Heaven help the poor soul who encountered a mare in a fatigued rage.
