|
A plume of hot breath spread before the terrorized hunched grey form, the result of a not so welcoming snort when the stranger finally stepped into her range of vision. Africa remained where she was, sacrificing her shelter to no one yet. Seizing the briefest opportunity to shoot glance towards the approaching blight, wide, fearful eyes noted with little surprise that she bore the curse of all who dwelt within this hole, a horn jutting square between sinister pools of a dark, shining hue. The bay too snorted; similar contempt rising as stale vapour into the bitterly cold gale.
Apparently their dislike for one another was instant, and neither was deterred; both displaying anger and resentment, the dapple grey mind due, wavered with hesitation. “You're asking me? May I ask what you are doing here." The stranger’s tone was filled with scornful sarcasm and Africa turned her face towards the wall, hoping perhaps that the Unicorn mare might slip away through the veil of light snow once more and forget her pursuit. Agitation was portrayed in no uncertain terms, her red-streaked, black tail flicking once, twice harshly- a warning perhaps, though her broken down form would surely strike no fear into one so fit and primed as this unfamiliar mare.
Africa ached both in spirit and in health, she was bruised and battered, and the macabre, gruesome glare of the stallion that had drained the very life force from her soul, haunted her cowering, pitiful stare. She might have tucked her wings close then, for comfort and warmth in the frigid atmosphere, but there was no such luxury in the land of the wicked and blood thirsty; they rested lifeless against the rock and rime by her hooves. Bracing against the presence of the other horse in paranoid retaliation and unenthusiastic compliance, Africa replied, “Your kind have trapped me; my sister lies murdered unceremoniously, by your front gate.... ” Angry tears, hot with guilt and misery began to spew once again from her glazed, blood-shot eyes.
The fight was raw still, the stench of blood and lost life clinging to the vulnerable down lining her pinched nostrils. She reviled the situation which had caused this mess; she hated herself.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: 515b833f251f3]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/515b833f251f3)
