.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
10-10-2012, 08:00 AM
After speaking with the relic, Myrddin, the burgundy traced mare had set off to meet the King he spoke of. Only the war they'd talked about had begun faster than they'd thought, and now the old Unicorn's herd was displaced. She'd caught word of the defeated group living here among the ice and snow. A strange place to take refuge, indeed, but a fitting backdrop for those with hatred in their hearts. The six-horned mare excuted a flashy trot through the layers of snow, forced to pull her hooves high out of the drifts. She sought the leader of the losers, oddly enough. She had plans to visit the other herds as well, especially the newly formed Edge. But for now, her mind was set well enough on having a word with this Mauja. She'd never been fond of monarchs, and she didn't expect much from the brute. As Myrddin had said, stallions were often gullible creatures. It was almost ironic how they so often gained any following at all. Yet, out of the most surprising places could come greatness. Catching the scents of others on the wind, Sorcha stopped. Clouds of snow jumped around her hooves, hundreds of tiny crystals sticking to her painted pelt. Her frame stood tall and elegant before the looming caves of glass. "I seek audience with the ex-King Mauja." She spoke in her strangely feminine lilt, giving emphasis to the prefix ex. Her ivory chin was held high below a paled sapphire gaze, searching for the sight of this unknown and failed lead.  |
