The light bay mare trudged through the knee deep snow. The bitterly cold wind whistled in her ears, and stung her pelt like bees. A flurry of snow and ice flew through the frigid air catching in her mane and forelock. She wasn't quite yet used to this weather. The bitter wind and constant flurry of ice and snow seemed relentless.
Small icicles seemed to be forming under her chin. The ground was covered with ice and mud, causing her dark hooves to lose traction and slip momentarily. The only trees that Zima would see would be bare, and lifeless. It seemed to her that the Earth was forever frozen in a blanket of ice. As she breathed in, the freezing air burned her lungs and as she let air out a billow of steam came from her nostrils. Snow clung to her hooves and chin and she has to shake several it times to rid herself of it temporarily.
Though Zima was new here, she wanted to meet and talk to as many herd members as possible. She was so happy to finally have a home in the Basin. She had spent too many months wandering by herself with no one to talk to. She didn't understand how some horses could spent entire lifetimes as outcasts. It would probably drive her insane.
Zima wondered if she would run into anybody this cold chilly morning. She had already met Illynx and Sielu, the deep purple filly with the blue smoke for a mane and a tail. She scanned the powdery white terrain with dark blue orbs, seeing no one. "Hello?", she called out, hoping someone would hear.
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Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
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Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
![[Image: 515b833f251f3]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/515b833f251f3)
Look down
The ground below is crumbling
Look up
The stars are all exploding
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On a peninsula, far north and hidden beneath perpetually snow-white mountain caps, the Basin territory was blanketed beneath cold, crisp winter. Although sheltered well by the lofty, skirting range of cold granite and jagged precipice, Frostfall’s bite was savage. It wearied the soul of any who were unsuspecting or weak to begin with- Aurora Basin was indeed a realm as harsh as it was mysteriously beautiful. Buried in the refuge of tireless shadows, a dapple grey Pegasus mare was weathering another week imprisoned in this bleak land of the cruel and heartless; robbed of all splendour, her spirit in shambles.
Pressed close against the unforgiving cliff face, she avoided much of the commotion of the alien herd’s life. Although time had already begun to scab only the lesion across her shoulder and blood no longer pulsed from its centre, she remained bruised, both in strength and heart. Africa thought wistfully about the egg which she missed so dreadfully, half-buried in the sand below her rock shelf, back home. Little else was allowed to seep through her antagonized mind; the memories were still too raw, the hatred and guilt writhing through her waking conscience whenever she weakened. She wondered despondently if the cold season had swamped her beloved homeland; if her family were comfortable, busy or simply riding out the same frigid wind that tousled the matted mess of hair flanking her sagging neck. She wondered if they had even noticed her absence.
Morning roused the young mare from a restless doze- she seldom slept, paranoia and fear of ambush jolting her exhausted body to life whenever the arms of coma were tempted to embrace. Fresh snow had fallen again, though this time Africa had been spared its soaking touch. As the icy wind funnelled beneath the jutting rock which had more or less become her saving grace, she made a vain attempt to shake the sore stiffness from her shivering frame. Her wings jiggled limply against the motion and pain twinged as they swung- though it was a helpless ache, and one which there was no hope in avoiding. That was when a voice lifted up the small slope, a greeting perhaps, yet wrapped in casual curiosity as well. The Pegasus pinned her ears instantly and her blood stained, dappled cloak shrank defensively into the rock.
She could not immediately see the threat as it neared, but she was a fool no longer, and didn’t imagine for a second that the horse approaching would be anything greater than a wretched stick-head. Swathing herself in an abnormally aggressive, unattractive mask, Africa returned the stranger’s call- though her own manner was contrastingly cold and unsociable. “What do you want... fiend.” Perhaps the conduct was imprudent, maybe it would result in further punishment. She was uncaring and numb now though, certain that her demise lingered just beyond the next turn, willing it to hurry along. Truly, the skulking, sullen coward in her wished that she had perished along with her sister when death itself had risen from the ground to draw the very breath from their lungs.
[ooc: yay <3 thank you!]
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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Table Header credits go to baylee.
Pegasus icon lineart credits go to Tamme.
The unrelenting wind kept blowing across the frigid Basin, chilling the young mare's coat, and making her shiver slightly. Suddenly she noticed a mare up anead. She was barely visible and looked like a mere shadow. Zima pricked her ears with curiosity. As she drew closer to the unknown mare, though an unfamiliar musky scent drew to her nostrils. Zima realized with astonishment, that she must be from a different herd. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw that it was dapple grey Pegasus huddled against the cliff face.
She stiffened with anger, as she noticed the wings. What is a pegasus doing in the Basin?, she thought to herself. The unfamiliar mare looked weakened, yet angered as the harsh biting wind blew against her. The blowing snow and ice made her dapple grey cost nearly invisible against the powdery white landscape. She had a scabbed up lesion on her shoulder, and Zima wondered what had happened to her. The winged creature seemed both angry and scared.
What do you want... Fiend, the mare's voice rang out with hostility. Her light brown eyes were narrowed in anger. Her ears were pinned flat back against her head and it looked like she could lunge out at any minute.
Zima felt anger course through her body, and she snorted, blowing steam into the biting cold air that burned her lungs. Who does she think she is?, Zima thought to herself. She smiled sarcastically, her dark blue eyes shining with anger and hostility at having been spoke to this way by a Pegasus.
You're asking me? May I ask what are you doing here.", her voice dripping with sarcasm.
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Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
|
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
Look down
The ground below is crumbling
Look up
The stars are all exploding
|
A plume of hot breath spread before the terrorized hunched grey form, the result of a not so welcoming snort when the stranger finally stepped into her range of vision. Africa remained where she was, sacrificing her shelter to no one yet. Seizing the briefest opportunity to shoot glance towards the approaching blight, wide, fearful eyes noted with little surprise that she bore the curse of all who dwelt within this hole, a horn jutting square between sinister pools of a dark, shining hue. The bay too snorted; similar contempt rising as stale vapour into the bitterly cold gale.
Apparently their dislike for one another was instant, and neither was deterred; both displaying anger and resentment, the dapple grey mind due, wavered with hesitation. “You're asking me? May I ask what you are doing here." The stranger’s tone was filled with scornful sarcasm and Africa turned her face towards the wall, hoping perhaps that the Unicorn mare might slip away through the veil of light snow once more and forget her pursuit. Agitation was portrayed in no uncertain terms, her red-streaked, black tail flicking once, twice harshly- a warning perhaps, though her broken down form would surely strike no fear into one so fit and primed as this unfamiliar mare.
Africa ached both in spirit and in health, she was bruised and battered, and the macabre, gruesome glare of the stallion that had drained the very life force from her soul, haunted her cowering, pitiful stare. She might have tucked her wings close then, for comfort and warmth in the frigid atmosphere, but there was no such luxury in the land of the wicked and blood thirsty; they rested lifeless against the rock and rime by her hooves. Bracing against the presence of the other horse in paranoid retaliation and unenthusiastic compliance, Africa replied, “Your kind have trapped me; my sister lies murdered unceremoniously, by your front gate.... ” Angry tears, hot with guilt and misery began to spew once again from her glazed, blood-shot eyes.
The fight was raw still, the stench of blood and lost life clinging to the vulnerable down lining her pinched nostrils. She reviled the situation which had caused this mess; she hated herself.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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Table Header credits go to baylee.
Pegasus icon lineart credits go to Tamme.
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