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Completed her work successfully, Tor had been planning to leave the ex-Edge and return to the Threshold, to pick up any horses that may prove valuable to her, but instead, she had lingered on the tip of the steppe, not quite willing to leave just yet. A large number of her Helovian memories had been formed here. Mauja, her meeting of Ophelia, Lucius, and Faelene. Healing a bunch of battle-crazed, angry, racist beasts. It was, Tor thought, rather ironic that her, a selfless horse, had been the one to soothe the unicorns taking hold of the Steppe, had been the one to cleanse wounds and heal flesh. It wasn't in the mare's nature to simply leave one wounded behind, no matter how atrocious they had behaved or how rude they were. No matter how foul the actions they had committed or their threats.
The big-boned draft sighed softly, resting a leg as she looked out solemnly into the ocean. Even the frigid winter here was nothing compared to her homeland's. At the Li'Nal, the air was so cold the ocean water turned to black slush licking at ice, everything was dead and barren and white, the horses huddled with the masses of caribou to keep warm. Winters had been hard and cruel there, but it was fun too, laughing and trotting to keep warm, watching the foals leap and gallop and test out their legs, before curling up under the horses' hooves, where the snow had been scraped away to reveal dry dirt emanating gentle heat. She missed her homeland, but not as much as each little figure. Blackfoot, the proud black Friesian Percheron cross that was her mother. Whitewood, the Gypsy Vanner, her kind father. Tirala, Lunalu, Thalium- the prancing fillies and the colt, each respectively, bright and cheerful and hopping and bouncing. Now, they would be yearlings, two years old at least. They would begin traveling by themselves, relying less and less on their parents... Daisy, Whisper, Nirana, all of Tor's close friends, except perhaps Nirana, who Tor had always clashed with about selfishness. Still, Tor missed them.
Now she had Ophelia. And Paladin. But that was all, really. Tor shifted her stance, warm brown eyes catching glimpse of another hornless mare not too far away. With silent, massive, feet, Tor walked over, head low and relaxed. "Hello."
"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think
Word Count: 450
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