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They say an elephant’s eyes speak the greatest language
Frostfall came quickly, it’s blanket of cold and white leaving no question of the season change. There was no gradual shift to the freezing weather, no light dusting of snowflakes. No, it was immediate inundation of wintery weather. Icicles twinkled from the Rotunda’s ruined dome while a layer of ice coated the crumbling columns. Despite it’s cracked and broken-down state, the ancient building had a stately beauty in the frost.
The King’s ears swiveled all directions, navy eyes closely studying all of the long shadows cast by the sinking sun in the dead and dormant shrubbery. Only evergreens retained their needles—for which the Elephant was vaguely annoyed in the moment for it blocked his futile searching. The Rotunda’s charm was lost on his busy, purposeful gaze; large, ivory hooves leaving meandering tracks that marked his search for his son.
“Kianzo!” His deep call rumbled, shaking loose some precariously perched snow from a few tree boughs. Thick, black and ivory limbs lurched to a halt alongside the ice-shrouded columns and collapsing stairs. His black-rimed ears tilted backwards, the dark dot on them bright against the white skin. His coat had grown thick and shaggy this year, finally accustomed to creating a winter coat in the Edge’s cold, wet climate. His silvered buckskin had become dark and rich with the added length and thickness, adding warm golden hues to his hide.
But his own comfort in his newly thick coat only renewed and deepened the worry that creased his black-marked face. The skin around his eyes was drawn and lined, jaw set and lips tightly pursed. If it had taken the King years to adjust to the cold weather, a young foal certainly would not handle it well…
He shook his head slightly, unwilling to turn his thoughts in the direction of death. Rexanna seemed certain that Kianzo lived. And Kiada, despite her surly mood and pained loneliness, seemed more angry than concerned about her twin.
A deep sigh pushed out of his thick nostrils as he struck at the stairs with his hoof, sending rivulets of cracks throughout the ice.
The King’s ears swiveled all directions, navy eyes closely studying all of the long shadows cast by the sinking sun in the dead and dormant shrubbery. Only evergreens retained their needles—for which the Elephant was vaguely annoyed in the moment for it blocked his futile searching. The Rotunda’s charm was lost on his busy, purposeful gaze; large, ivory hooves leaving meandering tracks that marked his search for his son.
“Kianzo!” His deep call rumbled, shaking loose some precariously perched snow from a few tree boughs. Thick, black and ivory limbs lurched to a halt alongside the ice-shrouded columns and collapsing stairs. His black-rimed ears tilted backwards, the dark dot on them bright against the white skin. His coat had grown thick and shaggy this year, finally accustomed to creating a winter coat in the Edge’s cold, wet climate. His silvered buckskin had become dark and rich with the added length and thickness, adding warm golden hues to his hide.
But his own comfort in his newly thick coat only renewed and deepened the worry that creased his black-marked face. The skin around his eyes was drawn and lined, jaw set and lips tightly pursed. If it had taken the King years to adjust to the cold weather, a young foal certainly would not handle it well…
He shook his head slightly, unwilling to turn his thoughts in the direction of death. Rexanna seemed certain that Kianzo lived. And Kiada, despite her surly mood and pained loneliness, seemed more angry than concerned about her twin.
A deep sigh pushed out of his thick nostrils as he struck at the stairs with his hoof, sending rivulets of cracks throughout the ice.
What else could make you feel so much without a word?
Open thread, he's searching for Kianzo!
Please tag Tembovu.
