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12-24-2012, 12:41 AM
Oh, rain. How he despised it in all it's aqueous qualities. Despite the warmth that accompanied Birdsong, it also came with boughts of thunderstorms and heavy rains to help bring life back into Helovia. Frostfall had rendered the land barren, making it one of the most difficult years so far, if the stallion had been listening to everyone's complaints right. While hardly one to complain himself, even Crowley couldn't help but flick his tail in absolute annoyance and let loose a sharp snort. His brindled hide was soaked through as he moved across the meadow at a swift pace, his cloven hooves leaving soggy impressions in the softening ground as he moved. The Basin was a long ways off from here, and the last thing he wanted to do was venture into the Steppe soaked to the bone. He could curse this meadow for being so bare, so open. And then, finally, relief came in the form of a large redwood in the distance. It sat close to the river that ran through the meadow, but far enough away to move in time should a flash flooding be a problem. Crowley made a bee-line for the redwood, and once under it, he came to a stop and shook the water from his pelt. The tree, while thick in every way possible, took the brunt of most of the rain, keeping the stallion as dry as possible. A few wayward droplets escaped through the leaves every now and then, splattering back down against the Phantom's hide, but it was nothing compared to the brutal shower he'd just escaped. 'This is what I get for stretching my legs?' He mused in his head, casting his golden eyes skyward at the thought. Surely the Gods were laughing at him right now, but he didn't care. At least he was alone. |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
