She had a year of light, and then darkness.
Holler does not thrive in the darkness – she certainly looks like a being made for light, the way her pale coat turns rainbow in the sunlight. Now, she looks more like a specter, a pale form moving in the unnatural darkness. She moves cautiously, fighting the urge to run back to her mother’s side. She doesn’t fancy herself a fighter, though she supposes she could turn herself into something more fearsome if needed – but what would these monsters she’s heard rumor of find fearsome? Holler does not know what they look like, what might defeat them – if indeed, anything could defeat them at all.
Her steps are short. She grows herself a pair of horns, dual things jutting sharp from her, though the strange weight of them makes her heard dip slightly. Still, it feels a little like protection, and she’ll take what she can, for now. She considers shifting into something else altogether – something predatory, something with fangs and claws – but she is still unused to those bodies, and caution keeps her in her own equine form.
Holler moves into the meadow and pretends she is brave. She lifts her head as if she is not weighted down and she looks out into the darkness, scrabbling for defiance, for looking like she belongs there.
As if anyone can see het in all this gloom, anyway.
holler
