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Africa’s sallow teeth bit hard across her tongue as it lurched between mottled grey jaws, Wait! Rasta! ...but it was too late. Like a ray of new morning sunlight tumbling down across the fetid floor, the pale palomino had drifted forward and away from the one-winged quivering flank – her sister could hardly see the malevolent twitch of the stranger ahead as he caught wind of their presence. “Rasta!” she part bleated, stamping a tan hoof hard again the cushion of dead, decomposing leaves beneath; any attempt draw the blind artisan back to safety. Even as she glanced back to smile reassuringly, Africa had no sound feeling in her gut. Face wrought with concern, she tried again to coerce the small dove to return. “We should be heading home,” she whispered sharply. Her heart sank though as Rasta turned back credulously towards the stallion, who had all the while swivelled around his whole attention. Even from a distance, the Starry-Eyed could see the menacing grin which had curled his dim lips right back above pale teeth. A brisk snort betrayed her anxiousness, but suddenly another sound drew back her ears from their flaming bed. Another stallion dressed as though for winter, slipped from the tree line across from where Africa stood, and his manner was as smooth and calm as the warm Birdsong breeze around them; quite a contrast beside the Equine who appeared to writhe with intent (she could only guess foul). Finding a spurt of new courage, the feeble hearted grey stumbled forward to join at her sister’s creamy flank, and a tender nose danced ahead to give notice. Thor... It was a name she had heard only in rumour, and those had been diluted awfully by the torment of recent events. Still, she was not altogether content while the other Equine dithered, and in response held quiet her voice; tolerating his presence only by the grace of their well-timed company from the Edge. Though a smile teased weakly her thin sooty lips, it soon vanished as eyes roamed towards the stranger.  |
@[Rasta]
