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Two creatures slowly travelled into the herdland. One, the giant bay pegasus, stood out against the stark winter background. His companion was much better concealed, distinguishable from the snow only due to her golden horn and the faintest of gold highlights that glimmered in her mane and tail. The mare rested heavily against the steed, stumbling through the drifts that should have been little problem. Bones jutted against the ivory pelt, the combination of Frostfall and tragedy had reduced her to little more than a skeleton. Azure eyes gazed down at the earth, picking every step carefully to keep from falling. She was truly a sorry sight, a broken creature who was more dead than alive.
Adura’s mind was drifting, hardly aware of the snow that tripped her, the intense cold that bit through her malnourished coat, even the pegasus that moved beside her. Instead she saw flaming swords, beautiful men and women draped in white, wings of the same color beating as some took to the air. A man in black fighting fiercely, laughing at the warriors of light, wings dark and broken. Ropes made of magic had been looped around her neck, holding her docile until the dark one fell, mortally wounded.
A harsh scream ripped from the throat of the lady, too lost in the memory to understand that the battle was over, that there was nothing more she could do. She half reared, jerking her neck forward, fighting bonds that were no longer there. Hooves returned to the ground and trampled the snow into a slush, struggling and agitated until she fell. The shock of impact brought her back to the present, back to a body that was too weak to allow such exertions.
Ashamed, she tried to rise, but she didn’t have the strength and was forced to remain as she was. A brief glance was directed to the one who had brought her here before she turned her head away. What must he think of her, fighting phantoms? Perhaps this time he would leave her to be another victim of Frostfall, tired of babysitting a mare who could not tell fantasy from truth. Adura would not blame him if he did, for he had been far kinder to her than she felt she deserved. She did not wish to die, the flame of self-preservation having been rekindled, but without assistance the unicorn would not survive.
OOC:
Walking the walk
Talking the talk
Thinking my thoughts
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