09-27-2015, 07:53 PM
She doesn’t know what to do with herself.
Her life, that wonderful little peaceful life, hidden away in the Gates, is gone. The Chamber has destroyed it, crushed it. They hurt her friends, and kidnapped her mother and ‘sister.’ Nothing feels quite the same any more, nothing feels quite safe.
The wool of naivety has been pulled out from in front of her eyes. The world has shown itself for what it really is - a dark and horrible place. She doesn’t know what to do anymore.
She’s rooting around through the ash-blackened snow that had once been the mother tree (searching for any tidbit of life left), when a scent reaches her nose. It’s vaguely familiar in some way, but she can’t quite put her hoof. The scent is followed by a shrill whinny, and she springs into action, seeking out the newcomer.
She finds the clearing quickly, and stops when she spots the dark mare. Her dark eyes take in the sour expression and the scars. She feels the faintest tingly of recognition, but she has no idea where from. She has no idea that she met this mare once very soon after her birth.
Her expression is stony, and her voice flat and dry. “Can I help you?” She has little to smile about these days, and little reason to trust horses that do not belong to the Gates. She’s learned well what being too trusting and unprepared can lead to.
Her life, that wonderful little peaceful life, hidden away in the Gates, is gone. The Chamber has destroyed it, crushed it. They hurt her friends, and kidnapped her mother and ‘sister.’ Nothing feels quite the same any more, nothing feels quite safe.
The wool of naivety has been pulled out from in front of her eyes. The world has shown itself for what it really is - a dark and horrible place. She doesn’t know what to do anymore.
She’s rooting around through the ash-blackened snow that had once been the mother tree (searching for any tidbit of life left), when a scent reaches her nose. It’s vaguely familiar in some way, but she can’t quite put her hoof. The scent is followed by a shrill whinny, and she springs into action, seeking out the newcomer.
She finds the clearing quickly, and stops when she spots the dark mare. Her dark eyes take in the sour expression and the scars. She feels the faintest tingly of recognition, but she has no idea where from. She has no idea that she met this mare once very soon after her birth.
Her expression is stony, and her voice flat and dry. “Can I help you?” She has little to smile about these days, and little reason to trust horses that do not belong to the Gates. She’s learned well what being too trusting and unprepared can lead to.
Sidra
the wild child of jason x fiasko
![[Image: sidraandsahm_zps0fabjlj2.gif]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v202/dsl_devin/sidraandsahm_zps0fabjlj2.gif)