Mercury eyes slide along the frozen land with fleeting notations. Here there was a few deer scrounging up bits of weak roots, there was a squirrel woken from an early slumber. These creatures keeping time with life and it's never ending rotation. Lior finds contentment in witnessing their routines. Did they have the squabbles that Beqanna faced? Was there an alternate existence within the confines of this land? Lior shook these questions away along with the light dusting of snow that had accumulated along the edge of his spine.
Heavy hooves lift to begin their echo of thud-thud when a deafening clamoring came smashing into his scarred hind end. In the blur of noise and flesh, lobes are pinned and stitched within the tangled mess of his poll. Lids slit over the now liquid silver of his eyes, lips pulling away to reveal a snarl of sharp teeth that readied for the taste of flesh and bone.
But in a rather agile pivot of motion for the tall stallion, reveals a smaller brown mare rightfully scrambling after bouncing off his larger bulk. A smooth ripple composes his features and returns them to the flat stoic observation he had held moments before. A single ear releases from his skull but the silver-gray of his eyes remain watching her. Plumes of frosted air fill in the awkward gap that now was between them after the other sputtered through words and hesitations.
His gaze moves over her in a rapid motion. She is young, blue eyed and brilliantly winged like the gaudy peacock. Would she be a reflection of the bird? Lior allows the silence to sift into the cracks of silence between them for a moment before shattering it with the clap of his thundercloud laced words. “Be more careful, mare." And with those five syllables, he is quiet again and turning his gaze back to the span of naked sleeping trees that lay at his hooves.
Heavy hooves lift to begin their echo of thud-thud when a deafening clamoring came smashing into his scarred hind end. In the blur of noise and flesh, lobes are pinned and stitched within the tangled mess of his poll. Lids slit over the now liquid silver of his eyes, lips pulling away to reveal a snarl of sharp teeth that readied for the taste of flesh and bone.
But in a rather agile pivot of motion for the tall stallion, reveals a smaller brown mare rightfully scrambling after bouncing off his larger bulk. A smooth ripple composes his features and returns them to the flat stoic observation he had held moments before. A single ear releases from his skull but the silver-gray of his eyes remain watching her. Plumes of frosted air fill in the awkward gap that now was between them after the other sputtered through words and hesitations.
His gaze moves over her in a rapid motion. She is young, blue eyed and brilliantly winged like the gaudy peacock. Would she be a reflection of the bird? Lior allows the silence to sift into the cracks of silence between them for a moment before shattering it with the clap of his thundercloud laced words. “Be more careful, mare." And with those five syllables, he is quiet again and turning his gaze back to the span of naked sleeping trees that lay at his hooves.