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10-09-2015, 08:50 AM
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The meadow...the meadow..the meadow. And what a lovely place it is to spend your days and nights...when you're clearly avoiding going home. A bright, clear day, the vast blue untouched by anything but the serrated edges of the mountains to the north. Tangere picks contentedly at the cropped grasses while her companion covers every inch of the overhanging skies. Images of the ground below from an aerial advantage flash through her mind – no one but fellow grazers so far, and a few groups of chattering mares and a recruiter or two. The raven picks another corner to search, telling the mare without words that it seems pretty empty in the meadows today. No commotion – oh wait... Nevermind. A big pearly striped cat with blazing blue eyes was the first thing to capture the pale raven's attention. It is alone and moving away from the meadow, but it's stride suggests that it has a mission in mind...a rather frantic mission. Ah, Phrixus sees him now. His stone-gray body nearly lifeless looking below. Silently he dips from his former height and grabs a branch that bends over the suffering stallion. The smell of dried blood seeps into Tangere's pink mottled nostrils. Her head instinctively flings upright, her ears pressing in all directions, her breath stopping to silence herself to better hear the surrounding sounds. She cannot hear anything useful. She asks the raven where he is and she receives the image of the stallion and the branch the bird sits upon. She knows the meadow well and moves quickly to find just where the dappled stallion suffers.. She can smell burning flesh – electricity or fire or something. And dried blood. She cannot shake the smell from her nose. She comes upon them with a hungry canter, scooping at the ground with her short stocky legs. “Are you ok?” She speaks softly through the huffing of her lungs, she is out of breath. She stands over him like a hen, sniffing at him gently but not touching him. He smells weird. Like sickness. She retreats a few steps, but does not leave him. “...are you...dead?” Her face scrunches with half-disgust and half-concern. If she is to be a healer in the future then she best get used to the dead, dying and diseased. “”  |
- You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
- Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:
