It turns out that Tamora can do… quite a bit. All she has to do is put her mind to it. Literally.
It’s difficult at first, every effort making her break into a sweat, until her skin is dark and splotchy and she feels like she’s run across half the length of Beqanna. She sticks to the simple tasks; lifting rocks and branches into the air, hurling them away from her and then pulling them back in. How fast can she throw them? Stopping an object in motion isn’t quite as easy, though she finds that she can slow a bird down as it flits from bush to bush. It was easier, because the bird was red and stood out against the browns and grays of winter She’s even tried to see if she can affect her own qualities, and though the answer is yes, all it got her were some skinned knees and sore muscles. Flight isn’t an option yet - the potential ramifications of dropping from such heights and being unable to control her fall could (no, would) be deadly.
And that’s a big ‘ol nope. At least for right now.
Today, Tamora wants to dig a hole. Just for funsies, and because she’s never done more than scrape an indentation into the ground with her own hoof, which can only go so far, particularly when the ground is frozen.The little chestnut mare does not shiver in the brisk air, though she stands so very still, her head lowered towards the ground, and her eyes trained studiously on the earth. Slowly, but surely, a pile of dirt begins to appear, as if someone were hollowing out a wooden bowl, and the wooden shavings were piled on top of the rim. Or perhaps a team of ants were working at the speed of light, creating a home in the fraction of the time it normally took. Either way, it doesn’t look as if the dirt-piling going to stop soon, and the mare has no intention of moving.
idk what this is, or why the html isn't workinb. but better late than never.
@[violence]