Chernobyl

She knew he would come, he always comes. Faithfully they meet each other time after time; checking one another over and swiping the occasional soft touch. The sun has yet to set, leaving the shiny ice layer blanketing the snow illuminate like a thousand peachy lights. The peach colors fade to rose and lavender, soon they will sharpen into a bright yellow/orange - her mind is away from the sunset now though. Now she can only think of him as the sound of his feet crunching through the crusty snow echo across the vastness. The ocean's wild waves can be heard to the east, but all that booms in her ears in her own heartbeat. His voice cuts the coldness with its melting warmth, brushing the bitterness aside - instantly she realizes the heat they make with one another. The thought rolls away into the back of her mind as he reaches for her and says something of an apology. "Oh my handsome, kindred Murdock..." She chuckles wryly, "I'm the one constantly running off, no apologies from you are ever necessary..." She bubbles over with a little more laughter, leaning over to brush her hot breath against his cheek. "I've missed you so. I truly ache when we're apart. My bones, they're too restless to ever stay still for long though, as I'm sure you've noticed." A giggle flutters out of her wide fuzzy nostrils, again she leans over to touch him, this time her body slithers behind her movements. She fts herself nicely beside him, they're dark bodies meshing perfectly. Black and black, the fading sunlight reveals traces of Murdock's shadow-loving markings.

The snowflakes fall silently, swirling down to the shiny spines, fur, thorns and wings below. They melt upon contact, only gathering at the tips of the splinters adorning the black mare's horn. It is frigid but she cannot feel it, she wonders for a split second if he can feel the same thing she can. That electric, hot feeling that only his presence gives her. She decides to answer him now that they're eyes are locked into each other. "I've been well, and you? How have you been getting along?" She sniffs the air aloud, "The Edge." Her mind processes the smell of it's trees, heavy moisture and general aroma. She recognizes it. She cannot remember if she'd always known he was from there or if it is recent. Either way, it certainly much better than her past origins. Certainly the Edge would not persecute him for socializing with a unicorn. She reaches for him again, this time for longer, pressing her shoulder into his and tucking the bridge of her muzzle behind his cheekbone (into the groove of his neck). It felt good to breath him in, to lean on him gently, feeling his fur and feathers, and the delightful heat radiating from their bodies being so close. She gets lost in it, soaking it in, loving it.

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away