isn't she lovely?
It’s as if she had wandered across an entirely different border.
What was once flush colours of golds, auburns, and browns now a charcoaled graveyard. Every step she takes sinks into a basin of soot, making the journey even more painful.
Who would be alive to meet her?
Her brain spins in vivid flashes of her palomino crush with swirling water and flourishing woods to line their landscape, to her chestnut… What can she call her? What could she have called her?
The recent passings with Lilliana had been painful and tormenting, but yet Ruth cannot help but feel the firm pull of regret. If she had spent more time appreciating the help, the sacrifice, the love her chestnut savior had shown perhaps then things would be different.
At the very least she would’ve been buried amongst those who knew and loved her instead of here, alone.
Not alone like before, when she chose solidarity over the company of who she needed most. How pitiful that had been, locking herself away with her own thoughts and pissing away years that could have been spent with literally anyone else.
But alone for real. Perhaps for forever.
She had never been great at making friends.
The golden mare continued to deepen herself in Nerine, her white snip at the tip of her muzzle flexing as nostrils expanded in desperation to smell something, anything familiar. Her cream mane hung in wing-tied knots that caressed long below the crest of her chest, her tail with similar harassment from the wind swung pastern to pastern. Soft hues of pinks and yellows tossed from the rising sun ignited her coat in a pastel shimmer, her scars beginning to be hidden below the preparing winter shed. Nothing like she was before, yet undeniably her.
Who would be able to provide her answers, if the greeter would be welcoming or dreadfully guarded due to the current condition of their home?
After all, Ruthless could be nothing but a stranger to these lands now.
What was once flush colours of golds, auburns, and browns now a charcoaled graveyard. Every step she takes sinks into a basin of soot, making the journey even more painful.
Who would be alive to meet her?
Her brain spins in vivid flashes of her palomino crush with swirling water and flourishing woods to line their landscape, to her chestnut… What can she call her? What could she have called her?
The recent passings with Lilliana had been painful and tormenting, but yet Ruth cannot help but feel the firm pull of regret. If she had spent more time appreciating the help, the sacrifice, the love her chestnut savior had shown perhaps then things would be different.
At the very least she would’ve been buried amongst those who knew and loved her instead of here, alone.
Not alone like before, when she chose solidarity over the company of who she needed most. How pitiful that had been, locking herself away with her own thoughts and pissing away years that could have been spent with literally anyone else.
But alone for real. Perhaps for forever.
She had never been great at making friends.
The golden mare continued to deepen herself in Nerine, her white snip at the tip of her muzzle flexing as nostrils expanded in desperation to smell something, anything familiar. Her cream mane hung in wing-tied knots that caressed long below the crest of her chest, her tail with similar harassment from the wind swung pastern to pastern. Soft hues of pinks and yellows tossed from the rising sun ignited her coat in a pastel shimmer, her scars beginning to be hidden below the preparing winter shed. Nothing like she was before, yet undeniably her.
Who would be able to provide her answers, if the greeter would be welcoming or dreadfully guarded due to the current condition of their home?
After all, Ruthless could be nothing but a stranger to these lands now.
Ruthless
father x mother or rank
@[lilliana] and anyone else who wants to see/meet her!