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12-23-2013, 02:05 PM
It had seemed like forever ago since the sun had settled beneath the horizon, the promise of a large, orange moon gleaming with surreal colors and light - igniting the world into something beautifully brazen and exotic, seemingly leaving an iridescent glow. Hours ago the sky had began to thicken with the threat of a storm, the clouds appearing heavy and dark, whilst the sound of thunder cascaded into the world of Helovia like the drums of war, a land that she knew nothing of. Tonight, Dahlia walks with her head hung low, the rain had let up some - but it weighed down the hairs of her mane, the drenched locks clutching flawlessly to the fine muscles of her neck, accustomed to such a result. The night air is cold, velveteen nostrils flaring as her own warmth emits into the crisp air, leaving a cloud of fog in it’s wake. This place was unlike any that she had seen before, the graying blue of her eyes harden as they peer into the thicket, the trees had grown tall and wild, riddled with flaw but they were beautiful in their own way. The mare’s body is sleek, droplets of water slipping from the curves of her toned muscles and down the length of her lean legs, the moonlit night offering a steady glow of a natural off reds that decorate and mold Dahlia into who she is, physically. She doesn’t know where she is or how long she has traveled for, but she feels the need to stop, to take a breather and perhaps survey the lands further for what they were, rather than what they looked to be.
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Image from breathless-dk @ Deviantart.
