08-31-2016, 04:08 PM
Sirana gave her head and neck a good shake to get rid of some of the snow that had fallen onto her mane during the last snowfall. Despite her best efforts, a majority of it still stuck, something that annoyed her. Her mane now looked like the coat of an appaloosa, while her body retained its flawless champagne color, even with her thick winter coat.
Her mane and tail had grown quite long, just like her dam's. They were a deep red chestnut in color, almost like the color of blood mixed with dirt. Her legs were dark as well, and part of the skin under her muzzle had started to turn pink, something that even her dam probably wouldn't have suspected. It seemed a bit strange against her champagne fur, but it didn't look incredibly strange.
Her body was lean but muscular, traits from her time spent running to increase her stamina and speed, something she'd been working on since the days that her dam's friend, Raxa, had started to teach her. Her belly was lean as well, a sign that she was not carrying a foal this season. Some of the mares had given her a bit of an odd look, almost as if they found it strange she wasn't carrying a foal this season. Sirana had simply given them an angry look; why should she have a foal now? She was only three years old for goodness sake; she had plenty of time to have a kid, if she ever wanted to that is.
The filly used her muzzle to push the snow aside, searching for some grass she could eat. She ignored the feeling of the snow biting at the skin on her face, the frigid tingling it left behind. It didn't do much to phase her, and the hunger in her belly made her focus on something else. Every so often, she found a small patch of grass, and quickly devoured it, continuing the search again afterwards.
The winter breeze blew a new scent toward the mare; it was of a stallion that she did not recognize. She lifted her finely tapered head, her almond brown eyes following the trail of the scent up a small hill. In the distance, she could see the herd stallion, Phaedrus, and the other stallion she must've smelled, the one who was unfamiliar. Figuring that Phaedrus would handle it (since the stallion so loved to show off his superior strength), the champagne filly returned to her efforts at finding grass. She'd worry about the stallion when the situation suddenly involved her.
Her mane and tail had grown quite long, just like her dam's. They were a deep red chestnut in color, almost like the color of blood mixed with dirt. Her legs were dark as well, and part of the skin under her muzzle had started to turn pink, something that even her dam probably wouldn't have suspected. It seemed a bit strange against her champagne fur, but it didn't look incredibly strange.
Her body was lean but muscular, traits from her time spent running to increase her stamina and speed, something she'd been working on since the days that her dam's friend, Raxa, had started to teach her. Her belly was lean as well, a sign that she was not carrying a foal this season. Some of the mares had given her a bit of an odd look, almost as if they found it strange she wasn't carrying a foal this season. Sirana had simply given them an angry look; why should she have a foal now? She was only three years old for goodness sake; she had plenty of time to have a kid, if she ever wanted to that is.
The filly used her muzzle to push the snow aside, searching for some grass she could eat. She ignored the feeling of the snow biting at the skin on her face, the frigid tingling it left behind. It didn't do much to phase her, and the hunger in her belly made her focus on something else. Every so often, she found a small patch of grass, and quickly devoured it, continuing the search again afterwards.
The winter breeze blew a new scent toward the mare; it was of a stallion that she did not recognize. She lifted her finely tapered head, her almond brown eyes following the trail of the scent up a small hill. In the distance, she could see the herd stallion, Phaedrus, and the other stallion she must've smelled, the one who was unfamiliar. Figuring that Phaedrus would handle it (since the stallion so loved to show off his superior strength), the champagne filly returned to her efforts at finding grass. She'd worry about the stallion when the situation suddenly involved her.