Frostfall had begun quicker than we had all anticipated, leaving you with just enough thick fur remaining on your gray hide to shelter you from the unbearable cold months that are headed our way. You plod along quietly, enjoying that the clack of rock beneath your jagged hooves was gone for now. Nostrils flutter loudly, white clouds expelling from red nares with every breath. So what are we doing here? Everyone is under ground we remind you... Just incase you had already forgotten what the fuck was going on right now! You ignore our soft words, dark hooves beginning to drag below your light frame.

Hooves beat the soft earth in the distance, a light tap gradually becoming louder and nearer. We feel you slide into a hault, front left hoof cocked on it's gnarled edge. You stare toward the sound, ears rotating and flickering just as the sound stopped. Your breath is shallow and quick, maroon orbs searching your surroundings nervously. Suddenly a name is screamed out that makes you want to jump out of your own skin, but instead you react with a jolt that racks us around in your head. The hoof beats start again, and we attempt to pressure you into finding the stranger. The faceless creature screams again and your crowned skull pulls back from the noise, ears flattening on your black neck.

"Anyone?!" The voice begs, tearing at your lonely heart in large swipes. You remember, don't you? Of coures he does! Your chest tightens, your breathing becomes uncomfortable, and your memories cloud over the present; a young, cold, shaking colt laying against a tree. Nightmares plauge your sleep and even your day dreams. A large brute invited you home, "the Aurora Basin" he called it. The snowy haven was home for a little over a whole year, and yet you did not feel at home. Now, here you stand: Helovia is falling apart at the hands of some dark plague, and where you had just been accepted into was taken under the wave of endless black hours.

Without any further thought, your body is weaving across a path that swerves between the tall trees, long legs pulling you across the pine needle flooring in a canter. Quickly a black figure appears just behind a tree, pacing uncomfortably. This must have been him, the one calling for someone. Your stride slows immediately to a cautious walk, red rimmed ears pressed forward curiously, glossy eyes staring at the boy before you. "Don't be frightened, boy." You mumble, immediately wanting to suck the words back out of the air. You're speaking like us, and the idea of it scares you horribly.

Tagged: @[Orka]
Ooc: Oh my god what a sloppy, horrid post! I am so sorry about this one. I promise the next will be better, :/
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Table by Frostie

The colt with a crystal blue gaze peers up at you, his eyes fixated on your face, but not connecting with your empty stare. We can feel hot breath rolling from your slightly agape mouth, red trimmed auds facing the young male. The colt almost immediately seems reassured by your appearance, beginning to approach your dark body before pausing a comfortable distance away. Don't trust this kid, he smells like an issue we beg, tapping on the innards of your skull with long, hot finger nails.

You take a nervous step backward, ears flicking back and nostrils gaping wide open as you draw in a deep breath. The young stud shakes his ivory stripped face, the curled mess of hair that hangs down his snout recoils back to its' original home. "I'm Orka-" the growing youngster continues on while you mentally slur his name time and time again. The repetition helps you remember both calling and face. "-where the hell I am?" Your crowned skull lowers slightly, left ear flicking forward to take in every sound the male makes. "Orka-" you repeat out loud one time before continuing, "I'm Voodoo, and this is Helovia."

The crisp wind howls through the Threshold, the foul stench of so many dead, decaying bodies floating like a powder tossed in the air. Red nares pinch tight at the faint scent; perhaps the colt cannot smell the lingering death, but your heightened scense allows such a thing. The thick strings that collectively create your tail snap to the right, lashing your gray flank. "It is not safe here Orka, if you follow me I can explain." An uncomfortable sting hangs off of the tip of your wetted tongue; the option of rejecting your request is there, but the yearling would be a fool to do so.

Nervously you shift on your dark legs, your rounded gray barrel heaving once with a deep breath. Your drive to leave increases by the second, the scent of rotten corpses lingering in your sinuses.

Tagged: @[Orka]
Ooc: Lol, you're fine hun!
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Table by Frostie

The soft earth gives under hard feet, sore muscles as joints soaking in the cushion while it has a chance away from the stone flooring. Your left ear cocks back, listening to the colt pad along at a distance, following you like a happy puppy following their brothers and sisters. The crackle of cold earth under the yearling's dark hooves spooks your edgy nerves -even though you know it is him following you. You dance to the right, ass end swinging at an angle that allows you to watch Orka with caution. Ears flicked backward with anticipation, maroon windows watching from the corners of their sockets.

Young words reach out to you with questioning pitches, and you hope he has not become a scrambled mess of nerves on the inside as you have. Long legs swing quickly, to and fro, moving your thin built frame along in a hurried walk. "I'm not sure what exactly they are, but there's something that has been infecting many of our loved ones. Apparently the disease creates a break down-" you pause, trapping the next few words in your throat. Crowned skull lowers and swings to the left slightly, attempting to grasp the eye contact of young Orka. Do not put that shit into his head! we hiss at you coldly using the stern voice of your beloved dead mother.

"Their self control." Your cranium returns to it's slightly cocked state that you had held before, watching both where you're going and the bobbing face of the colt just by the slight movement of your ruby pools. A gruff clearing of your moist throat accents the beginning of your next sentence: "Never mind that. Someone that knows more should tell you. Let's just get out of here." You press on briskly, hoping the colt will keep up.

Tagged: @[Orka]
Ooc: We can just continue on in the Sanctuary if you'd like, that way you can get out of here. Lol. Just PM me and we can set up the next thread! :)
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Table by Frostie