xiah
Mud clings to the poor excuse for feathers that the mare wears; miscellaneous items of nature make love to the chaos of her mane and tail. The grey of her eyes have turned silver, luminous with the wild of the land beyond. Stars flicker within her, and they do not fade as she reenters Beqanna.
The scent of the North beckons to the young woman, newly fleshed out, full of height and fit of muscle. She blinks softly towards the Tundra, wondering if she ought to return; but as she had found no traces of her parents on her venture to the Outside, there simply remained nothing for her in the ice kingdom. Nothing but memories and vindication.
So, her head turns away, and the breeze carrying the scent of her homelands sighs a final goodbye. Relying on the shimmer of the moon above, Xiah galloped through the long grasses, ignorant to the many sleeping creatures below. The tip of her spiralling unicorn horn points unwaveringly forward, leads her on to new beginnings, stands as her sentinel for the long hours of the night.
As the drum of her dirtied hooves slow to a soft tumbling and finally to silence, Xiah raises her snipped nose and inhales deeply. A disgusting musk of thousands of horses wafts over her. Perfect. Raising a knee to bite at it idly, the unicorn wonders whether she ought to clean herself up a bit. She gives her a neck a bit of a shake, but in the ends, it only fluffs up the mess of her mane more. Sighing with a smirk, Xiah shrugs and decides that whoever approaches her will just have to deal with it.
All of it.
You won't have any friends, and I'll live in a room
With flowers on the walls, and golden doorknobs