10-30-2017, 04:55 PM
Femur has no idea how she ended up in the Field. She knew the Forest bordered it on the eastern edge but she always took great care to not end up there. Truth was, she had no real reason to be there in the first place - the Forest was her haunt away from the smoky sulphuric mire of Tephra. She supposed that shacking up there with Longclaw meant she was a resident but she’d done nothing to further her status there as anything but not did she care to. Femur had what she wanted out of this life so far even though it wasn’t much; it was enough to her.
Of course she is in her favorite state of invisibility when the trees begin to thin out, growing sparser and farther from one another here as wide swaths of field take over. A multitude of smells hits her nostrils making them wrinkle in distaste - too many, too much, she thought sourly. Her mouth turns visible, revealing a frown that pinches it from corner to corner and shows the fangs that poke out from the underside of her upper lip. Normally she held a Cheshire grin on those lips when she’s frightening horses in the forest but here is different - it reeks of sadness and she’s gives herself further away with a rather loud snort.
Might as well let them see me, she thinks as she suddenly the rest of her just sort of pops into being. Her eyes are black and have that rich shine to them that is characteristic of the bloodline she stems from; they pass over the dumps of those with their tails turned to her and their heads lowered to graze or talk with each other. Femur is interested in doing neither until she hears some gasps and sighs of revulsion and surprise. She turns her own lovely little head in the direction that all the noise seems to be coming from.
Why, it’s nothing more than a little mare with a beautifully dished face and a bum leg! Femur gives a little shake of her head; the others had no right to stare or murmur in hushed tones about the mare’s state. It disgusts Femur but gossips are gossips though they sound more like a horde of ridiculous fat old bees. She glares at a few of them as she passes, even snaps her teeth at them until she is close enough to the silver bay to see that’s she in a much more precious state of existence - up close, Femur could see the flaky skin but it didn’t bother her one bit.
She was more so impressed by the brave face the gimp-mare wore. “You’re doing a fantastic job of ignoring them. They’re all idiots anyway.” Her teeth and fangs are bared in the nice but toothiest grin she can manage.
OOC: posting while at work so no html and it’s a little messy but love Wound! <3