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02-10-2016, 06:16 PM
Zahra, Ilham, and Hanna
It was pride that turned angels into devils
It wasn’t so bad.
The snow, the brisk invigorating air, the seemingly endless space of the north; even the little kitsune leaping artfully between the white snowy drifts dressing the tundra was slowly succumbing to this environment and the curious family they had been given. Zahra shrieked madly as she stumbled over smothered, invisible rocks and plunged headfirst into a fresh icy hill, wet and thrilling. As she pulled herself free the painted yearling laughed brightly and shook the sodden grey tendrils of forelock from her eyes - "It’s freezing Bird!". The well furred canine was indeed wet (she was a small creature, barely standing as high as the knobbly knees of her yearling sister), but her clever undercoat repelled the cold and while Zahra began to shiver and regret their early morning antics, the kitsune played on.
Despite the freshly fallen powder snow glittering around them, the air was cold and dry, and it seemed to burn the filly’s lungs as she drew panting breath after breath. The unusual trio (long ago fostered siblings), were journeying towards the Threshold at a bold gait, keen to pursue purpose and gain some favour in the herd; after all, there was only so much digging one youngster could cope each day. Her eagerness to visit the famous forest on Helovia’s brink, was a curious thing in truth, for her mother had been a frequent visitor during her time, and many had been recruited to the desert by her hand; it seemed like a fitting task for the Starry-Eyed’s child, and one which neither seemed arduous or futile. On they went, until at last old redwoods began to dot the land.
The filly ruffled her useless wings enthusiastically, pausing to behold the blur of murky green spreading out below, as far as her eye could see. There were many such places in Helovia – labyrinths, rabbit warrens, places within which all sense of time and location was lost, and Zahra had so many corners to cover. At a hearty canter, she Bird and Ilham (who rode snug within her concealed web-mane burrow), moved forward, and not long after broke the shabby tree-line to the Threshold. The air was stained a bitter, musty hue and it forced the young horse’s stride to stagger momentarily; pale-yellow eyes scanned brazenly the world beneath the spindly canopy, shifting from one sunny shaft to another, searching inexpertly for any sign of another nearby.
For an hour or more they walked aimlessly through the tired, shadowy undergrowth.
Boredom inched ever deeper through the girl’s mind, and should not a voice have risen so suddenly through the glade they had fallen into, Zahra might have abandoned their ambitious task altogether and sort a very much more exciting game to play instead. Ears pricked instantly, gaze skirted the near vicinity for movement and she turned her tapering muzzle upwards to scent a small breath of wind. "I’m here," she called brightly, without inhibition, stepping in the direction she felt best represented the position of the mare.
The snow, the brisk invigorating air, the seemingly endless space of the north; even the little kitsune leaping artfully between the white snowy drifts dressing the tundra was slowly succumbing to this environment and the curious family they had been given. Zahra shrieked madly as she stumbled over smothered, invisible rocks and plunged headfirst into a fresh icy hill, wet and thrilling. As she pulled herself free the painted yearling laughed brightly and shook the sodden grey tendrils of forelock from her eyes - "It’s freezing Bird!". The well furred canine was indeed wet (she was a small creature, barely standing as high as the knobbly knees of her yearling sister), but her clever undercoat repelled the cold and while Zahra began to shiver and regret their early morning antics, the kitsune played on.
Despite the freshly fallen powder snow glittering around them, the air was cold and dry, and it seemed to burn the filly’s lungs as she drew panting breath after breath. The unusual trio (long ago fostered siblings), were journeying towards the Threshold at a bold gait, keen to pursue purpose and gain some favour in the herd; after all, there was only so much digging one youngster could cope each day. Her eagerness to visit the famous forest on Helovia’s brink, was a curious thing in truth, for her mother had been a frequent visitor during her time, and many had been recruited to the desert by her hand; it seemed like a fitting task for the Starry-Eyed’s child, and one which neither seemed arduous or futile. On they went, until at last old redwoods began to dot the land.
The filly ruffled her useless wings enthusiastically, pausing to behold the blur of murky green spreading out below, as far as her eye could see. There were many such places in Helovia – labyrinths, rabbit warrens, places within which all sense of time and location was lost, and Zahra had so many corners to cover. At a hearty canter, she Bird and Ilham (who rode snug within her concealed web-mane burrow), moved forward, and not long after broke the shabby tree-line to the Threshold. The air was stained a bitter, musty hue and it forced the young horse’s stride to stagger momentarily; pale-yellow eyes scanned brazenly the world beneath the spindly canopy, shifting from one sunny shaft to another, searching inexpertly for any sign of another nearby.
For an hour or more they walked aimlessly through the tired, shadowy undergrowth.
Boredom inched ever deeper through the girl’s mind, and should not a voice have risen so suddenly through the glade they had fallen into, Zahra might have abandoned their ambitious task altogether and sort a very much more exciting game to play instead. Ears pricked instantly, gaze skirted the near vicinity for movement and she turned her tapering muzzle upwards to scent a small breath of wind. "I’m here," she called brightly, without inhibition, stepping in the direction she felt best represented the position of the mare.
