03-13-2017, 09:25 AM
She had been here wandering in the meadow for quite sometime now. Many would be searching and longing for a place to call home, but truth be told, Merida hasn’t had a place even remotely close to a home in years. Do not feel sorry for her – it was by her own choice, as everything in her life was. She was (and continues to be) a rolling stone, unable – though not unwilling – to stay in one place too long. It made her feel uncomfortable, like wearing a sweater that was one size too small, as well as incredibly scratchy. Even now she could feel herself becoming eager for a new scene. Days in the meadow were beginning to feel like achingly long months to the ebony and red mare. However, it could easily be the constant snow that was making her dislike her time in the meadow. It’s nighttime and it’s positively soundless in the meadow. The freshly fallen snow seems to muffle everything that normally would be making noise this time of night. There was no brushing of leaves against each other in the night wind, or the sound of crickets to soften the sharp silence that was beginning to make Merida’s ears ache. The sky is clear and bright, sparkling gently with brilliant stars overhead. The moon was large and full, bathing the meadow with silver light. As Merida walks through the frozen snow, unable to sleep because of the deafening silence, the moonlight spills gingerly on her black coat, accentuating the lean muscle beneath as well as illuminating the soft red that flecks her shoulders and haunches. The only sound she could hear was the incessant crunch of her hooves as they slice through the snow. The black mare wore a look of dislike on her face as she moves through the meadow, her lips twitching into a grimace. It was too damn cold. A sound interrupts Merida’s grumbling thoughts and her ears prick graciously. Finally, there was something to distract her from the silent frozen world around her. She looks for the source, halting her steps and inhaling the bitterly frigid air. It was a stallion, and she spies him walking purposefully (like she had been pretending to do) along the meadow’s still borders. It was dark, but she could barely make out his shape not that far from her. She lifts her chin and whinnies to him invitingly, her breath warm against the winter’s chill. Normally, Merida wasn’t the one to begin a conversation with someone, but she felt the silence of the meadow was draining her into insanity. Because of this, she was more than welcoming to a stranger’s exchange. She waits quietly, hoping that the spotted stallion would join her and give her something interesting to focus on, thus curing her boredom. merida |