Hooves beat the earth steadily, the high branches of the remaining trees slump in desperate states; the ashes of insinerated vegitation and broke down, splintered bark coat the once brown and green forest floors. You move uneasily, frequently jolting in panic mid-stride and swinging around nervously. The want to escape the filthy air only exceeds as you draw closer an closer to the underground labyrinth, but you cannot blow through the black and gray world without leaving the colt behind: Orka.

Ash sticks to every drop of moisture on your body, dappeling the darkest points of your hide with minuscule gray spots. Surely Orka looks identically, if even more covered thanks to you kicking the debris up at him. Maroon snout swings to the left in hopes to find the colt still following along. You've tried to stay at a steady pace, but then wind often pursuaded you to run.. Or at least canter for most of the time. Sweat dews around your shoulders, running off of your withers and also trecking down your black spine to roll in beads down each gray side.

Eventually, the once protective shroud of high tree branches begins to gradually fade, the remaining forest sprawled out far and few between. You can smell the change in the air; from ash to live magma. It is so warm compared to the bitter claw of early Frostfall winds. Rummy pools fall once more to your left, checking on the yearling, hoping he is not dragging behind. The black ringlets of coiled, gnarled tail arched, snapping numerous times at the miserably hot air. The mouth of the chain of caves is finally in view, the sage brush and dry grasses that surround it have even began to wilt.

The choppy canter that you had somehow kept up most of the trip finally rolls into a quick trot, relaxing even more into a fast walk. Your crowned skull is kept high in the air, ears rotating constantly, nostrils fluttering like mad. You near the opening in the ground, hooves picking carefully on the lightly coated white and gray earth. The beat in path was no longer visible, but the mixture of a light dusting of snow and blown around ash churned together reminds you that life is plentiful below grounds.

Cranium ducks low so the maroon bone sitting atop your skull does not run across jagged rock. Easily, carefully, each step is places lightly, leading you and -hopefully- the colt down into the Sanctuary. The red ooze of light that glows off of the constant roll of lava fills the vast space with light, diamonds and earth-hardened gems glinting in the ancient walls. Finally, the stone evens out and your clip forward a few more steps before pausing, your nerves still tight and unsettling. Red rimmed auds press forward and you drop your colorful snout to the yearling's level, hoping to make eye contact.

Tagged: @[Orka]
Ooc: I'm surprised I got what I did out of this with the little muse I have. Sorry it took so long!
Text here "Chat here." Voices here

Table by Frostie

You watch the colt as his attention sweeps across the glittery landscape, the gems reflecting in his shocking blue eyes like the moon in a lake. Sweat rolls continuously down your dark neck, the thick coils of your partially matted, wild mane sticking to the streams of condensation. "I-is this still Helovia?" the young Orka stammers, but you are not sure if it is because lack of breath, or perhaps just nerves. For you, it is both that cause your sides to heave uncontrolably. "This is what.. Remains of Helovia." the words are choppy and uncomfortable, thanks to how uncomfortable you are with the situation that is going on above ground.

You take a few sore steps forward, your right shoulder dropping uncomfortably with the second step. Only a few feet were covered before you paused again, a deep breath sucking in through wide nostrils while red tipped ears laid back on your neck. The amount of ground covered in such a short time, along with a lack of hydration since your stay down here, has made you miserably uncomfortable and sore. You glance toward your young company again, the glossy, tired gaze set deep into your ruby pools is cut off by a sleepy blink, followed by a wide yawn.

"POLARIS!" Orka's voice screams through your head, making us shutter and crawl away from the inescapable. Your eyes snap open and you jolt in suprise as if he were screaming right in your face, and your tail arches, the knots and wound tight dredlocks curling around your back left ankle. "Who is Polaris?" Your tone is somewhat demanding, but it is soft and curious at the same time. Silently you eyeball the yearling, ears turning forward one by one.

Tagged: @[Orka]
Text here "Chat here." Voices here

Table by Frostie