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12-09-2015, 08:12 PM
Another Orangemoon, though by the looks of the Throat, one would hardly know it. Not enough trees, Nasreen thought, and a soft sigh intermingled with the sound of the sand squeaking beneath her hooves. While this season marked the close of her third year in Helovia and the beginning of her fourth, it seemed as if she was fated to remain a stranger in these lands. But with brother dead and friends gone, where was she to turn? There had always been someone there in times of crisis, someone to scoop her up and set her on a path towards the light. Yet now…when she looked around her, all she found was ghosts and empty desert. She was all that was left. As Nasreen reached the top of the dune she’d been climbing, the sunrise illuminated the sand below, the oasis a dark smudge in the distance. The mare paused, contemplating. Palms and vines were not the same as the firs and oaks that she longed for, but perhaps they would provide some small comfort. Sadness did not suit Nasreen well, and she was desperate for a distraction. Spreading her wings, the coppery mare lofted herself into the sky and towards the patch of green. It was a short flight, but when she arrived, Nasreen found the place nearly empty. She was sure a soul or two snoozed beneath the canopy, but it was early still and she did not wish to disturb them. After a quick drink from the watering hole, she meandered along the shore looking for something to do. Aside from her seasonal patrols, Nasreen found that she had much time to be idle, and while she had once relished this freedom, it now felt like a void. Her mind wandered to happier times, to adventures with Kahlua and to crafting with Dragomir. Where were they now? she wondered, remembering the news of the invasion. Had they moved east to start over, as Bucephalus had told her? Had they forgotten her? A pang of homesickness pulsed in Nasreen’s chest, and she swallowed hard. I mustn’t think that way, she told herself, trying her best to be stern. She had been the deserter, after all. Still…with a touch of sadness, she pulled a clump of vines from the thin canopy above. Even if they had forgotten her, Nasreen knew that she would never forget her time in the Edge, nor the lessons she had learned there. Grasping the plants in her mouth, she walked along until she found a stretch of bare stone. Methodically, she pawed at the vine, separating the fibers in the way that Dragomir had once showed her. She was no expert rope-maker, but the motion was soothing. Soon her brow was furrowed and she was lost in the concentration required for such a delicate task. And so as the sun climbed higher in the sky, Nasreen found solace in the twisting and weaving of the vines, and the rope before her began to take shape. horse:Colourize-Stock.deviantart.com || bg: Dark-Wolfs-Stock.deviantart.com || wings: Chocomix-Stock.deviantart.com & Chunga-Stock.deviantart.com || image: impassioned-dreams.deviantart.com || table by wanda |
@Cera
Please do not tag Nasreen except for in opening posts and in spars!
