Cold winds howled eerily, slipping and weaving around both massive and miniature snow drifts with no effort. Snow flakes followed the motion, dancing through the air, scattering across the white earth recklessly. The air is open and very, very cold; the chill raising the dark skin beneath the thicket of wiry fur that has taken place on your dark hide. The Basin is just over the hills, and oh how badly can we feel the ache of longing radiating off of your lonely heart; just how bad do you want to go back, boy?

The winds continue to howl, carrying with them the tones that seem to create moans and cries, voices in the dead of night that creep from the lifeless souls that are surely held captive in snowy graves. We feel a tight tension rise in your nerves, floods of unfamiliar faces sweeping through your memories, washing over us lazily like a reciting tide. Silently, we watch from behind your eyes, peering out to view only more and more white, hues of blue painted across the starch color thanks to the shiny glory of ice arches.

Your ears press forward, your lungs tighten and refuse to draw in another breath. Why? You heard her: "-in the Throat," a short pause before the wind was able to carry along the last of the phrase. "Fuck you!" We can feel your heart throb, but whether it's due to excitement or fear is far beyond us, your emotions are every where at once. Our jagged, dull claws sink slowly into the soft tissue of your nervous system; keep this up and we will soon have control, idiot.

"Here-" your voice is drown out by another howl of bitter wind. How lucky are we to not have to be exposed to this wicked weather? "I'm here!" Before the words have even escaped your frozen windpipe, we can feel the grip of chipping hooves against rock and frozen snow. You propel yourself forward, your dark body meshing in with the minimal amount of light quite well, besides that red snout of yours, and the bone propelling from between your ears and fiery eyes.

The ground gives beneath your hurried feet numerous times, we can hear ice crackling and snow being punted out of your dizzy path. One of us press ourselves against the windows of your red-filmed eyes, while the others sit back in imaginary recliners, waiting for the climax of the movie. The snow turns to rock and ice below us -below you-, and your hurried pace slows to a cautious walk. "Where are you?" the words are so soft that we can barely make them out, yet they echo off of the frozen walls that now surround us.

Red wine pools fall on the small figure that stands at the opposite end of the ice arch that you emerge out of slowly. The built up tension that you had suddenly pulled from the air drowns in the pool of disappointment that now floods your heart. It is only a filly, one that you have so dumbly thought was one of your old family. The wind is less wicked right here, thanks to the tall walls of ice that barricades the Basin from you. As if your hooves have suddenly frozen to the unforgiving ice, you pause in your steps, standing motionlessly, staring toward the small body that now smells like the dusty grey that brought you to the dust bowl: the Throat.

Tagged: @[Sikeax]
Ooc: Wow..... It was a really, really good post.. then my internet decided to take a shit. Anyhow, I decided to try second person with him, so I hope it sounds okay!
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