Zandora

Yes, dear, I'm smiling
Inside I'm dying

The sugar stallion answered her question, his answer bringing a short chuckle from onyx lips. She agreed with his words though, it did seem like the basin had become withered, a gloomy sadness always surrounding the icy mountaintops, even though she added to the dullness. So many she had met seemed to be overloaded with the weights on their shoulders, a certain black and white stallion popping up in her clouded thoughts. Shaking her head, she did not further examine the topic, wanting only to forget about the colorlessness of the frozen lands, and him.

Her thoughts are thankfully wished away at the chords of the white. Zandora loved the basin, the crispness of the air, the treacheries, the auroma, but the cold was something she never was used too, never would be. Her body had accepted the absence of heat, but her mind would only think about the presence of it. The feeling still reminded her of the burning heat of hell, of her awful father's layer in the depths of the underworld. It seemed that Helovia was just a world of triggers, a bullet wound being poked each time her past was violently shot at her. A certain gust of wind enveloped her with cold, and her body began to shake despite her attempts to conceal it. The warmth of the waters mixed with the coldness of the air to create a army of needles upon black skin, perhaps she had not so welly thought it through. Sighing at her obliviousness, she attempted to distract herself with conversation. 

"Damned weather, I wish I had a coat like those drafts." She muttered with a shrug. Her arabian lineage gifted her with lots, but her body was made for the dunes and sands,
mountains and snow did not exist anywhere in her blood. His name was given then, and the peppermint stallion became Johnny of the thread. She had never met a crafter before, curiosity sparking in her eyes as he too asked of her. "It is neat that you craft, what can you make?" She questioned, purple orbs trained on the greens and reds of Johnny. His questioned stumped her momentarily, her time here seemed to have so quickly passed, so quickly gone.

"I don't know"

It was at this moment that she felt more lost then ever before, eyes turning down as she tried to hide away the pains, not wanting the sweet man to see such sadness, such darkness. Zandora could not pretend to be a light, joyous person, for she was a shadow, and the darkness is apart of her, all of her.











"Talk?"

OCC: @Johnny well this ended strangely....