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the Rift


i am nothing, i do not even have ashes to rub into my eyes

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#6
12-20-2014, 12:50 AM
Wide, luminescent eyes remained fixed on the draft in spite of the grief it caused her. He appeared to pass through the various stages of sheer exhaustion and, though she was unable, she wished fervently that she could do more. Nervously, the mare stepped forward, her hooves sliding unevenly over the ruts etched into the gorge’s floor. With a velveteen muzzle extended toward him, Essetia murmured softly to the wearied traveler, “Lean on me if you like.” Moving cautiously around him, so that both horses were facing the bank at which Romul sat waiting, the mare touched his shoulder with her own. It was a quick brush of skin, a reminder of warmth and light in the cold of what was becoming a worrisome night.

His voice was something like a leaf drifting upon the breeze, wavering in strength before fading entirely. The mare turned her gaze to his quivering lips and felt instantly adrift. She was unsure of herself, unsure of how to deal with such a fragile situation, and unsure of what to say to ease the man without losing her composure. “Don’t give up on me,” she croaked with a weak smile. Romul whimpered at the pair from afar but his companion only shook her head in response. The last thing she needed was the wolf panicking the draft and causing a potentially fatal fall. Looking to the skies, she sighed heavily. It was perhaps the first and last time she sent a silent prayer to the Gods, pleading for their help.

Again, soft vocals trembled in the still night air and Essetia used the opportunity to analyze the stallion in full, unabashed concern. Hard, sloping ribs pushed against his ashen hide and his flanks protruded outward, casting sharpened shadows along his hips in the moonlight. However, Essetia wasn’t given much time to ponder his state of well-being or how he managed to stumble across Helovia. She stepped away in order to allow him room as the draft rocked back into his haunches. Bringing up a large heavy hoof, he mercifully allowed her the words she’d been waiting for.

The mare nodded quickly, all business now, before trilling at Romul who turned to scramble back up the embankment. Knowing that she wouldn’t be much help in assisting the draft to the top of the ravine, she motioned for him to go on ahead. At least if he somehow managed to lose his footing she would be more apt to right him from behind. “Let’s go home then… Malachi.”
Credits!


@[Malachi]
OOC| So I realized I kind of messed up your post by having her come to him, hope you don’t mind.

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RE: i am nothing, i do not even have ashes to rub into my eyes - by Essetia - 12-20-2014, 12:50 AM

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