CHERNOBYL

Very very rarely does she descend from the cold, from the billows of frosty winds and frozen ground, to touch upon the warm dirt and trodden grass of the south. It's easy for her to sort through the memories and remember there is a fertile, quiet place to eat among the lush pockets of green among the Heavenly Fields. For hours she peacefully plucks seedpods from the ready to harvest grasses that sway and quake in the breeze. Now is the perfect time to do this and she knows it – and doing now means they may even produce again if given enough time, with a little luck and a later frost. This is her thought process, the patterns of the vegetation she eats, while she enjoys her solitude in the afternoon light.

Her serenity is soon to be thrown off its dreamy little axis and her world is about to be twisted around to kiss its own ass.

Something stirs in the nearby trees, a rustling, a few breaking branches. Her head instinctively flies up, her ears standing on end and her jaw clenches to mute her chewing. It sounds like what a bear might sound like lumbering through the woods, knocking dead branches off and dragging its paws across the strewn leaves. What happens next is all a blur of passing trees, scuffling sounds, claustrophobic panic sessions and really rude, animate vines. The earth had rumbled beneath her feet and when she looked down to see she was soon completely wrapped in vines and dragged violently toward an unknown destination.

She's left laying at the feet of a stranger, sprawled across freshly burnt ground. The smell of moist charcoal is the first thing she comes into consciousness noticing. She knows very well magic was involved in her sudden warp speed, grabby plants experience, but what she immediately wonders is...why? She's never been where she is now – but she can smell the vapor, even with the charred wood scent, and the roar of the gushing Falls.

Kidnap, perhaps? She quietly ponders this and more while her dark eyes focus on the winged women before her. Her legs find themselves straightening beneath her and she steps backward, an appropriate distance, she thinks. This could be a potentially dangerous situation if they still think she's with the Basin, she speculates. Could it be that they're warring, or maybe they're needing hostage of some kind... Bull's skin prickles all over and she takes a rather tense posture just before the mare begins her speech.

The next full moon...

The words absorb, they even soak and the black unicorn is still left in a shroud of mystery. She eyes the women suspiciously and knows right away, from the informative instructions before, that she is just fulfilling a mission. “I do.” She slants her head slightly and lets her forelock fall away from her left eye. “Who are you?” And many more inquiries bubble behind her eyes but she keeps them securely within until she finds out just what in the fuck is going on here.



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if i had a heart i could love you,
if i had a voice i would sing.