11-14-2016, 12:07 AM
some kind of quote here
For the first time in her short life, she is happy.
Lonely days in the den and feral months in the forest have given way to peace and safety, and family. Following Ruan to Sylva is perhaps the best decision that she’s ever made.
But she can’t completely divorce herself from her feral roots.
On quiet days she slips away from the wooded territory, heading back into the lands that had been her home for so long. She visits her old haunts and hiding places, and while she still thinks of them fondly, she is secretly pleased to find that they are not home any more. Sylva is home. Ruan and Reagan are home.
So she turns back towards Sylva, but along the way she stops by an icy stream to refresh herself. The stream is already surrounded by other horses, but she keeps to herself, tucking herself in between a pair of thick oaks. From her hidden vantage point, her brown eyes scan through the gathered creatures, passing over a myriad of colourful and confident mares and stallions. Perhaps some day she will feel comfortable enough to join in such a crowd for conversation … but today is not that day.
She turns away from the stream then, but freezes when she realizes that there is another close by. She had not heard them crunching through the snow. Brown eyes linger over the spotted coat, before finally rising to meet a pair of deep, warm amber eyes. “Hello.”
Lonely days in the den and feral months in the forest have given way to peace and safety, and family. Following Ruan to Sylva is perhaps the best decision that she’s ever made.
But she can’t completely divorce herself from her feral roots.
On quiet days she slips away from the wooded territory, heading back into the lands that had been her home for so long. She visits her old haunts and hiding places, and while she still thinks of them fondly, she is secretly pleased to find that they are not home any more. Sylva is home. Ruan and Reagan are home.
So she turns back towards Sylva, but along the way she stops by an icy stream to refresh herself. The stream is already surrounded by other horses, but she keeps to herself, tucking herself in between a pair of thick oaks. From her hidden vantage point, her brown eyes scan through the gathered creatures, passing over a myriad of colourful and confident mares and stallions. Perhaps some day she will feel comfortable enough to join in such a crowd for conversation … but today is not that day.
She turns away from the stream then, but freezes when she realizes that there is another close by. She had not heard them crunching through the snow. Brown eyes linger over the spotted coat, before finally rising to meet a pair of deep, warm amber eyes. “Hello.”
TERRA
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