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the Rift


spring at last, tajheri

Tor Posts: 197
World's Edge Nurse
Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9
Adoptable
#1
12-09-2012, 11:20 AM



It was spring. Spring. New life, new times. There was a shape in the early morning mist, a tall form, still weighed down with a heavy coat of creams and stones. But here in the Meadow, the white snow was turning cinnamon brown, dusted with it in fact, and the powder that had melted was wet earth, slopping mud that oozed gelatinous-ly and slowly over the Meadow, a two-inch tall army that thickened towards the banks of the flooded river. There were one or two violet flowers springing up farther away, towards the sides of the Deep Forest, but here any fresh buds were quickly sunk by the mud pit the Thistle Meadow was swiftly becoming.

Tor wrinkled her upper lip ever so slightly as she sipped at the cool water. It had a slimy feel to it, probably due to the silt swirling at its bottom and debris picked up from far away, but it was cold and fresh to Tor's overheating body. It's about time to lose this heavy coat of hair. It was, Tor mused, for even with the sun hardly awake, she was already growing hot and rather more irritable than she liked. The healer preferred not to be a sour-faced ass, and when she acted as one, she despised herself for it. Yes, the pelt is causing all the problems. She lifted her ivory muzzle out of the water. Droplets of glittering water clung to her whiskers, reflecting the sun rising from the east over the Endless Blue. The white disk was breathing golden light over Helovia, pale light attaching themselves to trees, a stark contrast to the untouched shadows. Just as the sun kissed the blades of grass and the swirling mud and refracted into a thousand pieces on the swirling river, it burst into a million glowing colors in the mist veiling the world.

The air tasted fresh, with the clarity of pine dancing on the softest of breezes, so soft it didn't stir the mists, that came whispering. Ears twisted and turned, caught the chirp of the birds and the songs. Ochre eyes watched in gentle love as a fawn opposite of Tor, across the riverbank, sipped at the water, it's back covered in fresh white spots like leaves upon the dappled forest floor. A mother guided the little being, a big-eyed doe who watched Tor with cautious but unafraid eyes, as if knowing the draft was kinder than almost anything, or anyone.

It really was spring here, unlike the Steppe or the Arch. The stream was chattering, the birds were singing, and you could almost feel the warmth of the Sun God bringing the frozen tomb to life.

""




T O R



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Messages In This Thread
spring at last, tajheri - by Tor - 12-09-2012, 11:20 AM
RE: spring at last, tajheri - by Tajheri - 12-09-2012, 02:04 PM
RE: spring at last, tajheri - by Tor - 12-09-2012, 02:20 PM

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