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DROPPING THE MIC, LETTING IT GO—
— she is quiet, shy, unable to talk to anyone else in this world but her one, true friend. it is he, her ever loyal bonded. now a days he could talk, but only could he speak short, messy sentences. his little voice often piping up into her mind during times when she was most down. she finds his company soothing, often retreating into long conversations (mainly of just her talking and him saying a few, childish words).
— today they wandered the edges of the basin, the land of which she was born in, and the land in which she would stay. her cold, bitter soul needed somewhere to retreat to, and this was it. cloven hooves strike the icy surface, and her body trembles due to the bitter cold. her breath is visible, lifting from her nostrils, and by her side altair walks, his breath rolling from his nostrils in white mist.
— she travels down into the valley of her home, letting loose a sigh of sweet relief. the cold snow swallows her up to her ankles, tender and frigid. she looks back to see altair bounding through the snow with a graceful attitude, although still tripping forth every few strides.
— taking her attention from him, she releases a song, a loud nicker that echoes through the basin. she stands in wait beside a pine, flicking her tail as she eagerly awaits someone to respond to her call.
— she stood, hoping, wishing, that someone would respond. she wanted to remain in this realm of frost and crowned brethren. her birthplace, her one, true home. she wanted to stay here now, for as long as she could. offering up a delicate huff, she watches her breath roll through jaded eyes. fluttering her lashes she stands in the pale moonlight, watching it spill out over the smooth, snowy land, casting her shadow down upon the ground. she shifts her weight, sinking deeper into the snow.
