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There are some moments that are quiet, the kind of quiet you think will live forever only to be shattered a second later. It was one of those days where a horse woke early, Tor was thinking to herself, becoming truly conscious of Birdsong. Indeed, there was a bird chirping in the skies above, a beautiful bird of sky-blue with wings of deep sapphires, eyes of bold midnight and small gray feet. "Hello there little one," A warm, silky voice called to it. But this voice was not the silk of a viper's voice- it was true velvet, filled with genuine love today. The sky-bird flitted in place for a moment, wings beating rapidly to hold its tiny body aloft, before it whisked itself away in a gust of wind, back among the treetops of the Deep Forest.
Tor was walking on the fine line between forest and desert, careful to remain not a step within the Throat, in case of an angry guard, but curious as to see progress on the wall a giant snake was building. It would be quite a formidable defense, when completed. The mare sighed, ears still fluffy from the winter brisk tipping forward to listen silently for any sign of life around her. Ophelia is who she was hoping for. You see, Tor had found, moments before Vermillion had shown himself, an amulet in the sparkling cave among the cliffs. It had been tucked away in a corner, this amulet. It was green, a lustrous forest green, with one or two veins of gold. Luckily for Tor, she had found it with a leather necklace attached, and with a little difficulty, she had managed to slip it over her head.
Fortunately for Tor's dear friend Ophelia, the draft mare did not feel the need to keep it, and so had decided as soon as she next came across the Gray leader, she would give the amulet to her. On the other hand, she had had no such luck, hence the lurking around the Deep Forest and watching the herds.
But returning to the matter of interest- the early-morning silence was shattered by a call for a medic. A call for help. There was no debate for Tor. Not one shred of doubt nor worry the victim may be surrounded by enemies. And so the mare ran, appearing out of the shadows of the solemn trees, ran as fleet-footed and light-stepping as she could, towards the plea. A mane of soft white whispered to the wind as she moved, her tail snapping in the wind. The draft made a regal sight, even despite her mixture of hairiness and sleekness, the awkward blend that comes with Birdsong and the melt. She slowed, trademark brown eyes taking in the scene with an expert ease. A massive pegasus- perhaps even a little larger than her, sheltering a delicate bird.
"Tor, wandering healer." The words were simple and honest. Normally, the mare did not feel the need for long titles or explanations. "Keep the bird under your wing, sir, and I must say that you should take rather better care of yourself as opposed to getting burned." A puff of air drifted from her gray lips as she knelt down next to them. "Do you want me to heal you first or the bird first?"
T O R
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