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02-10-2016, 09:12 PM
Slowly my figure draws itself from the crashing sea, wet hair matted and dripping. I resembled that of a drowned rat, but I was perfectly alive and well, if only a bit cold and tired. But I didn't outwardly express such things. The quiet calm of my face turned from side to side, black hair draped in tangles around my face.
The mare one see's before them is elegantly put together, Andalusian and warmblood in her lines giving her body a roundness even when she is lacking food in her stomach. Curves are lined all around, and an arching neck is held proud. Her face is delicate and straight, distinctly feminine, but refuses to show the emotions underneath. A constant barricade that she refuses to let down. Paranoia is something that runs deep, and she doesn't trust easy. Her markings are strange and foreign, glowing in a turquoise around her eyes. Dark blue and gold beads dangle from the mane, and a chain around her neck is adorned with the mark of Anubis. An amulet from a different time, and a different set of gods. Gods far darker, far crueler.
Soon the dark face is turned upon the journey before her, into the glowing land before her. She begins her trek south. South brings heat, and heat was good. Sand was good. Desert was what she sought, and she was determined to find it. Her body shook violently as she tried to rid herself of the wet coldness that seemed to chill deeply into her bones, and then she was moving off.
Graceful and large steps seemed to bring her no closer, and the stomach on her inky body grumbled, and a irritated sound pulled from the body. Food seemed scarce here, and she wasn't exactly happy about it. Hanger would slowly take over as she traveled further south. Rune didn't really see the landscape, and while she considered it beautiful, she didn't particularly care. Her goal was surviving. Which is exactly what she had been raised to do, and had done her whole life. Survive.
Beat the odds, and make it. Don't give in to death. Even if you are bleeding out, no hope, never give in.
But her mother gave in. In front of a child, not long before being pulled into this world. It had been violent. But it didn't break the mare. She stood tall, no one would ever know. And likely, no one would ever know what the mare saw before Helovia. But it was far more violent than many could imagine. But even now, she was still in lands she had known since childhood. She still hadn't left her old world. She would never be able to leave it behind. It would always be present.
@Adria
@Kalona
