She was long overdue with her visit to the outside wonders. Her legs needed to be stretched, as they were numb with pain. They flailed with no direct destination, just aiming in whatever way they could bend. Her neck was arched low, her body slumbered in the snow. Poor Hellä, restless as a bear would be when waking from hibernation. Her head was filled with nothing, she was staring into darkness, her body walking aimlessly. Was she dread to fulfill the terrible misery throughout Frostfall?
The snow was to her knees now. If her size was any lower, she would’ve had lost her legs to frostbite by now, but thankfully her height was higher than usual and she could lift them over the snow. Her winter coat had set in, making three layers in the last day. Her mane and tail grew thicker, darker. Her vivid blue eyes now turned to a deeper shade of the sea blues. Her legs had become stronger, strangely getting use to the icy cold snow touching them. Tan hooves yelped for soft, green ground, but what they wanted most was unbearable to most.
War.
Hellä craved for the blood showers to grasp for her clean talons. She felt disgusted to look down at her shiny, clean hooves. She wished to hear the sounds of the ripping flesh of another. It made her feel… Free. She felt as if she ruled the world when she looked at the gapping wounds across one’s womb, it brought back her humanity, and that she tried to hide so often. But was it really worth it? To have to hide something that brought out one’s characteristics? When it made everything feel so, real?
As she grew closer towards a large terrain of woods, she caught a scent from the moist, dirty air. Her nostrils snorted and white fog rolled out as she took a deep breath. Mare. She told herself before clinging to the wind again. Older. That was the only specific information she needed, was that the opponent was a mare, and she was older. That small input, made everything much easier on her weary bones.
Hellä stepped her strides up to a quicker pace, but kept herself steady before she ran dry of energy. But as she began to approach closer, her strides shortened to quick, fast steps, her knees coming higher to where her hooves were visible. She knew now that her legs were ready for a good battle – whether she was or not.
Finally, the opponent came into view and Hellä stopped dead. Her frame was not in the form of fear, but dedicated with pride and power. Her harks stood straight forward, her legs holding her beneath with firm balance, and her neck was arched with grace. She stood in silence for moments, studying the mare carefully, making sure to catch every feature on her bay body. ”Care to dance on this fine morning?” She asked with a deep smirk on her dark lips.
Attack: 0/3
Wordcount: 500
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[JUDGED] Who's the crooks in this crime? [Hellä]
