White December

Gods kill her now. The heat was about to kill her, like it already did her sanity and good nature. Sweat trickled endlessly down her withers and sides like minute waterfalls, as knotted mane clung to her thick neck for dear life. The feathers upon her ashen legs were wilted, no longer as wispy as they usually had been, mud and sweat giving them a matted visual as her steel gaze was heavily lidded. The thistles were nothing now, their searing pricks all but a nuisance compared to the torture that was this Tallsun weather. Her lips were dry, not quite yet cracked but getting rather close, and pink tongue helplessly stuck to the roof of her mouth, dry and parched from lack of liquids. This part was her own fault, as she had used any water she could to simply soak herself in, to relieve the sweaty itches and cleanse the dust from her alabaster hide.

The sharpness of winter cried out in her mind, singing sweet nothings to her and beckoning with its frozen tendrils, sending her into a near tizzy every time she tried to chase the mental image in her head. This time, it had sent her deeper into the Thistle Meadow, and it had taken her a few moments to notice the large crowd and gargantuan structure before her. Once it did come to her attention though, eyes widened momentarily, only to pause and turn herself, looking over to see a mighty draft-like creature standing at the foot of it. He was different, wings and horns sprouting from him and vegetation adorning his body. All eyes seemed to be on him, and it made December all the more curious. Working her heat-ridden frame closer, she found herself standing next to a familiar frame. The rabicano coloring on earthy fur, black horns and shorter stature made it clear to the lass that it was none other than Rostislav. Her eyes searched him briefly, letting them calmly flit about him to see how he had fared with the hot season, before quickly adverting her attention back to the one ahead.

He spoke with authority, sure, with a hint of apology on his features. The order he gave only perplexed December, not understanding what gave him the right to make such a command. Perhaps it was the way others looked upon him, or the confidence he held, but it didn't take long for it to click in her mind. This, this was a God. Which one, she wasn't sure, but she was suddenly fascinated and confused all at once, unsure what to think of his sudden order. What exactly did he have planned for them all? What was going to happen that they would all need to join together and perform tasks, in pairs nonetheless. Whatever it was, she was willing to obey his commands, for the Gods always seemed to have a reason. If she had seen what had happened before, what had occurred that brought the lands in such disarray, she may have thought differently. But for now, she would comply, and with her massive, sweaty crown turning to the fellow Falls member to her right, her head tossing briefly, before words escaped her smokey velveteen," Rostislav. We've got work to do, let's go." Pausing suddenly at her command, she looked around in curiosity, searching for the red mare that had been at his side before at the meeting. Perhaps he would want to go with her instead. Taking the time to collect on this, she finally added in a matter-of-fact tone," Unless you want to go with your mate. Then I will search for another partner."

"Speech"
Text
Thought

{WC: 611
Tag: Rostislav
OOC: December and Rostislav are shipping out! (Bromance? Idek)>