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There is a white mare on the Steppe today. Light gray, splashed and painted with sweet silky creams. Her warm breath frosts in the chilled air, but she doesn't mind. The mare was born and raised in the cold, but her heart was always warm. Almost all of her strength has been recovered since the healing of Mauja- the white fallen King. Now, that had been an interesting encounter. You see, the mare was hornless. Yet she was accompanied by a King known for his racism who even had gone so far to act companionable... well, not so much 'companionable' as 'not frosty'. To a mare. Yes, a pretty mare, but not a stunning unearthly beauty. Tor's alluring brown eyes closed, white eyelashes frosted with snow. Sparkling flakes caught in her ice-white mane, and landed delicately upon her back. It was snowing again. Not hard, just the drifting of dainty white fluff, settling upon the white banks. The mare opened her eyes, letting her gaze shift. Pristine white glowed, mostly untouched. A couple of erratic bumps, with a glint of steely gray rock beneath a white cap.
The tall mare continued walking, letting her long body relax. Her ears caught the sound of her gold hooves crunching upon the ethereal white. Tor welcomed the cold kissing her skin, fondling her like a childhood friend. "So, Mauja, your followers. Again, I will tend the most needy first. Later, if needed, the less seriously injured may come after I've rested." Tor swung her huge head, looking at the stallion. Now his rump, once charred flesh and burnt skin, was a dark pink patch, still a mar in his white coat, but much better.
"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think
Word Count: 281
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