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11-11-2016, 10:18 AM
“I can’t believe you crashed the ship!” the mare snapped suddenly in the direction of both the stallions she traveled with. This wasn’t the first time she’d brought it up, and usually she wasn’t one to complain more than once, but this was the first time their drunken antics had landed her in some unknown forest trudging through a sudden snowfall. Perhaps the weather had been partially to blame when their ship had been dashed on the rocks a week ago but Huldra couldn’t help but remember them arrogantly waving away her warnings when she’d told them not the steer while at that level of intoxication, or when she had pointed out the stormclouds on the horizon. So she blamed them, both of them, and with nothing else to focus on but the miserable weather and her own discomfort she gave into the temptation of temper.
She practically fumed and it was obvious across every inch of her masterfully expressive form: legs lifting a little higher, neck arched a little more and tail twitching back and forth like an angry cat. But she kept walking, despite the cold white that fell heavily upon her back and crept up her pasterns and with a pointed glance behind her every so often kept them walking too; gods knew if she didn't the ungrateful lumps would likely let themselves be buried in snow and stay there until spring.
Her two hulking protectors would survive a winter under the snow. They could freeze again and again only to be revived by their immortality. Sigrún too, for that matter; the little snake curled under her mane could shut her body down and wake good as new come the change of seasons. Huldra was not quite so resilient, and so she had prodded them on. Being of northern blood she could survive well enough in the cold, but not if she passed out in a snow bank as the boys were like to do, so before she’d relent and let them all get back to not giving a fuck, she’d get them somewhere they weren’t lost or cold or covered in wet snow. “Are you sure, you’ve never been here before?” the prompt was a bit short, but such was her mood.
She practically fumed and it was obvious across every inch of her masterfully expressive form: legs lifting a little higher, neck arched a little more and tail twitching back and forth like an angry cat. But she kept walking, despite the cold white that fell heavily upon her back and crept up her pasterns and with a pointed glance behind her every so often kept them walking too; gods knew if she didn't the ungrateful lumps would likely let themselves be buried in snow and stay there until spring.
Her two hulking protectors would survive a winter under the snow. They could freeze again and again only to be revived by their immortality. Sigrún too, for that matter; the little snake curled under her mane could shut her body down and wake good as new come the change of seasons. Huldra was not quite so resilient, and so she had prodded them on. Being of northern blood she could survive well enough in the cold, but not if she passed out in a snow bank as the boys were like to do, so before she’d relent and let them all get back to not giving a fuck, she’d get them somewhere they weren’t lost or cold or covered in wet snow. “Are you sure, you’ve never been here before?” the prompt was a bit short, but such was her mood.
Huldra
oh, I'm at the start of a pretty big downer
oh, I'm at the start of a pretty big downer
