Think sweets, think pink, think me!
She could still remember all that had happened. All the tender moments with the prince. As a human she had to admit she was a stunning creature, as a horse... she was to thin, to long, to... pink. There it was once again. As human her pink hair had been a beautiful decoration, now it covered her body making her stand out like a sign that screamed "warning, weirdo stands here".
Zayn was dead, her scars no longer bruising her supple skin. His son had taken over, and while he had paid her the honor of his attention once, she could tell that she was an unwanted part of the herd. She was no good to anyone really. Her skills lacked to a degree beyond what even normal horses considered acceptable. Socially awkward, and fear exuting from her there was only one that she had dared to be bold with. Zayn The whisper leaves her lips traveling amongst the trees on the border.
What was she to do now? There was no protector for her, no company that didn't make her quake, no one to bruise her hide in violent love. No only the silence of a forest. Yet this was something she used to find a comfort. Indulging in this now, she felt naked and the affection she once felt for it was left only cold and black.
She needed to find something, to figure something out. She missed the warm dark of the cave she had taken residence in. That was now the place that she could think back on with warm affection, standing there near the bustling brook she smiles secretively. Shaken out of the revere a sound distracts her. Who's there? Oh dear, oh dear. Would they harm her? Her heart began to race, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Panic rising to choke her. But worst of all. Was it Waylan?
Nixie