Something was different, changed. Heterochromatic eyes of crystal and crimson narrowed slightly as she observed the alteration of the landscape before her. No longer was the perfect blanket of white unmarred from the night's snowfall. Hundreds of prints moved in all directions, from one end to the other in the shape of paws, and she could not help but think of Osiris. Was he looking for someone? The grey, still? Ophelia had believed she had been found on the beach that day, but perhaps she was mistaken. Either way, the frequency of the sinkholes was concerning, so with furrowed brows and a cautious gaze, she tried to follow a fresh trail.
The snow started to fall again from stormy skies, kissing her deathly pallor with a gentle whisper of cold. Crystals of ice landed on her long, thick lashes and gathered in her hair, adorning the crimson with beads of diamonds that refracted what little light filtered through the clouds in a radiant way. Ophelia barely noticed; the cold was a welcome sensation that made her feel truly alive; it sank deeply into her soul and settled with a vibrancy and pulsing warmth. She inhaled deeply, catching the scent of smoke on the crisp air, and her tulip ears tilted back in worry. Ophelia gathered her slender legs beneath her lithe figure and swiftly moved into a three-beated gait, cloven hooves moving in the direction of the harsh burning smell.
If something happened to him.... she trailed, not allowing herself to complete the thought; it was a fool's errand. Tinek, sensing her immediacy, took to the skies and looked down upon the snowy field through crimson eyes, spotting the fire almost instantly. He send his bond-mate hazy images to give her direction, swooping down soon after to land near the older, black Comadre. The silver eyed the fire curiously, his own breath causing quite the opposite response in nature, and he hunkered down near the warmth, gazing as the pale figure of Ophelia hurried into the vicinity.
The bitter laugh was not expected from the smoke, and she saw that Tinek had settled next to Comadre and the black had started the fire. Relief flooded her heart, knowing that the pair were safe. Still, something about Osiris was off. He stood with his muzzle barely above the line of oppressed grass that had been exposed from the snow, possibly by his movements. Ophelia's quiet gait shifted to a slow, cautious walk, watching from a distance as he tore himself from his spot and moved toward the river which ran unhindered by ice and frost.
A slithering, massive, black abomination moved toward her friend, and her eyes widened in disbelief, anger and shock. He, it? Was moving straight toward Osiris, and without a thought to her own safety, she narrowed her gaze, adrenalin coursing through her veins like a drug that fed the eruption of motion from her figure. Ophelia was a white and crimson banner racing across the snow, cloven hooves never taking a false step as she lowered her horn menacingly, determined to protect her friend. The distance between them was gone almost instantly, and she arrived just as the serpent bumped into Osiris, muttering something about apologizing. Apology?
The racing of her heart and movement faltered, and she broke from her gallop with a pop of long limbs and jumped to a halt, nostrils flaring. Ophelia eyed the serpent with a noble wariness, snorting a thick cloud of white and coming to stand next to Osiris, making the odds in their favor (if odds would even matter against such a monster). The mare's neck was lifted high upon her withers, stance strong and neck arched in a way that made her seem even more regal than her usual, soft demeanor. Phi cast a glance into her friend's golden eyes, a silent question of "are you all right?" settling in her left, blue eye. "I would hardly call him little," she said in his defense, the half-wolf standing much taller than herself, and she was not short.
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