.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
11-27-2012, 10:04 PM
The cold didn't suit Aerwela. She was a creature of warmth and sand, of desolate terrain and basking sunlight. She was a creature of the desert; a lithe, thin-skinned mare with a natural affinity to heat. She pined to be showered in the warmth of the sun. Between narrow fissures in the clouds its light seeped through in earnest, bathing the world in a dull haze. From the looming clouds there fell a white powder and Aerwela gazed upon the flakes with glowering scorn, leonine tail swatting dangerously at the air behind her svelte physique. Smoke funneled from her nostrils in great bursts as she made her way across the Thistle Meadow, cloven hooves sinking marginally into the alabaster slush that encompassed her. Inwardly she blasphemed the Gods. What right did they have to deprive her of her powers; her birthright? She snorted, silver eyes peering out across the snowy expanse, her gaze settling upon nothing but white - pure, pristine white that suffocated the world and smothered the sun from the sky. The clouds swam through the atmosphere slow and deliberate like the masts of giant ships and the amazon watched them with a venomous scowl plaiting her features. She tipped her maw to the sky, rising up onto her haunches as she allowed a vociferous cry to peel from her lips. It was a feminine note and one that flawlessly attested her discontent. She wondered who would hear her, if anyone. [ ooc ; 800 word limit. No magic or companions. This will take place in the Thistle Meadow at about noon with an overcast sky and the sun obscured by clouds. The footing is slick and there is small amount of snow falling. Anyone is welcome to join. ] |
