Trekori
i'm freezing, it's not winter yet
but my fingers and toes
are shivering beneath these sheets
and i feel so alone
i don't want to die, i want to sleep
My hooves strike ice. The glittering white crystals littering its top layer stick to the light feathering of my hocks, dusting their dirty brown tendrils a purified white. I pause on my journey as I notice this. Hmm. Without ceremony, I drop to my knees, then to my side, my tawny wings clutched to my painted side. With an audible heave, I kick my legs up above me and wriggle and roll around in the snow, hoping that the frozen tundra can wash away the grime of my previous days' journey. Hell, of my previous life. As I move my body and feel the cold seep into it, I rest my eyes on the painful blue-white of the wintering sky above, wondering just how the hell I got this far. Not that my meager accomplishments in life have been "far," by any means.
There. Pleased with the results of my snow-bath, I repeat the heaving grown from before and right myself, splaying my legs to shake off the excess crystals. My mane slaps against both sides of my neck as I do so, the sound echoing into the vastness of the white plain ahead of me. Kinda embarrassing, I muse to myself. Oh well.
Snorting steam into the frigid air, I resume my trek towards the frozen wasteland known as a kingdom. Which kingdom I do not know. My junior years in politics long since gave way to the far more pressing needs of seclusion and mundanity, those being the themes of my adult life thus far. I could not tell you a single fact about my family, distant or close, nor a single fact about the names of the faces I knew as a somber and neglected child.
Familiarity breeds contempt. And I suppose I have held myself in contempt for a long, long time, neglecting myself the same way my parents once neglected me.
Unsure of my motives, I trudge through this frozen (yet apparently scorched?) wasteland, eager for night to fall as my eyes squint against the onslaught of whiteness before me.
@Leilan
