Serene in the fashion that there is nothing else than the distant nickers and whinnies raised from vocals tucked away in the bodies of horses she'll never come to know, this is true bliss. The calls of her own kind became nothing more than ample background noise while pawing through the snow. What grasses that rested and froze out of her reach where nothing towards achieving satisfaction. There is never enough in Frostfall, and at times, she ponders in the thought of how Adrixaura managed to suffer through raising her for what a short period it was and still have weight. Sunlight that kissed the world in this winter was paradise compared to the frozen months of her first season locked in eternal night.
The sensation of lazy warmth is still cold to the touch along a honey coloured hide, thickened by the weight of a rotting winter coat. It'd soon give way and peal in the ugliest way towards the arrival of summer months, but in the meantime, Sikeax lived the lifestyle of a rag doll feeding the light of the sky into the unknown from her forehead and stand as nothing more than a girl frailed by the harshness of her birth season and the hand of others.
At some point, she gives up on food, forelegs tired of looking for weak pickings. Either way, it was all dead down there.
Snorting out of frustration and hunger, pale eyes gaze into the spread of the meadow towards strangers, searching for whoever is seeking out food and getting the best of the supply. Faintly, she remembers Lace and the time they spent together performing no other task than grazing and small talk. What an absolute treat that would be compared to now, having a companion to speak with and grasses to bury into her belly. Then again, who wasn't dreaming that dream?
No one is getting much luck as she can see, now stepping onwards to discover thin spots in the blanket where there is some hope. Instead, she finds a male, just her luck, with a pup flailing about in the snow.
The pup pulls out a faint smile against her tired features, slipping back into a monotone expression of, well, silence. He is nothing more than a bay, having some height on her, yet the mounting of a horn brings away the unease that usually follows because of the outcasted sensation received from Pegasi.
"How old are they?"
In the back of her skull is the part of her that misses Amara and Sameria, the pup guiding out warm memories rather kept in the places of the past where they belonged. It was a good to see new life even in the spell of death, no matter where she could find it resting.


OOC: Would you like me to tag you?
@[Jakar]