M A R E N - By the precepts of her purity -
Snowflakes fell down in their passive, quiet melody. Blown over and towards her by the erratic swaying of the wind; crashing into her thick winter coat. Of all seasons winter was the one that made her feel the closest to home. She wandered through her memories as she breathed in the cold air, to puff it out of her nose in white misty clouds. Her eyes washed over the terrain, although it was hard to really see anything through the white veil. It was the first time in a while – no, wait; it was the first time ever since she had entered Helovia through its well-known bottleneck. “Hmmm…” she hymned to herself as she continued to walk through the deep snow, taking in the environment that had been left in the back of her mind for so long.
She continued her wandering through the outskirts with a nostalgic hum to her pace. When she found herself in between hills she had to jump her way through the thickened snow, and when crossing a frozen pond she walked carefully over the ice as she watched the light reflect in the air-filled ice-bubbles.
Then she halted her steps, took a moment to look around and watch the snow fall once again, listened to the rustling of the breeze through the crackling frozen reeds. It was then that, through the texture of falling snow, a brown blob fell into her sight. Like a random moving stroke of a paintbrush she wandered; into her directions. “Hey!” Maren called, feeling nostalgic as she slowly made her way through the snow towards the mare. Greeting new blood wasn’t totally her style, but today she felt nostalgic; today she felt like she could perhaps do something useful… Something useful that was for a change unrelated to the Patron. She squinted against the snow, hold her feathered wings like a hood above her face, too. The pale purples around her eyes shone vivid around her pupils, eyes totally silent, like always; crowned with a hooding frown. “Hey…”, she said again, less energetic now, as she glanced at the thorns growing from the crown of her head (old stories started flourishing from the back of her mind). "... Anyway," she shook herself loose from – whatever it was that had been holding her attention – and looked back into the spring green eyes of the mare. "Who are you?" she questioned with her outlandish voice, interested, but slightly as if she was supposed to know (even though they'd never met). Then she reminded herself to paste a smile at the end of her asking, but her attempt developed a few seconds to late to make it count the way it should've.
@[Arantza]
Notes: winterrr
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