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06-18-2013, 11:30 AM
The small mare advanced across the forest, chilly air clawing at her eyes and face. The brittle pine needles etched at her fetlocks. Her head held high. Her mane, long and regal flowed and tossed as she arched her small neck, and pressed her dished arabian face to her windpipe. She came to a sudden halt, throwing her legs into a rugged stance spread apart. Had the sound she just heard been another creature? Perhaps even an equine? Yuri quickly dismissed the thought and continued to press on through the foliage, her mane twisting, and bouncing in the chilling frostfall wind.
The woods calmed Yuri greatly, its gentle sounds of animals, chirping, chattering and fluttering desperately through the dry naked branches, to get to their nests and dens, and away from the cold. For Yuri had nowhere to go. Endlessly wandering through the unfarmiliar Helovian Terrain. But she was at advantage, being born in frostfall, she learned to cope, and even befriend the cold, for that was the only way to stand its evil chilling teeth sinking into your bones. Night was falling. The sky was gently darkening from its cold, white colour to its enshrouding black blanket, covering any hope of light, except for the little holes, letting through minimal, precious rays of light.
For tonight was a special night, a night where gentle lights flicker across the endless sea of black we call the sky. The lights colours are vibrant, illuminating anyones spirits, for this was one of the nights, several years ago in which Yuri was born.
The memories flooded back to her as she stood solemnly against a magnificent pine tree. For this also reminded her of her gentle welcoming to this world of hatred and division. For she could not complain she herself was also one of the skeptics toward other races. For her father had been killed solemnly by a ruthless pegasus, from far beyond their territory in her old land, which seemed like a distant memory.
