08-26-2016, 04:41 PM
Raised in the coldest kingdom in all the land, she did not mind the sudden shift in weather that resulted in a soft early snowfall even though autumn had barely just ended. The leaves were still crisp and burnt in their color as they clung tenaciously to the trees until sharp gusts of wind blew them all down. Now they lay beneath the light snowfall that made everything so stark and beautifully uniform - almost pure, even - in all that whiteness. She gazed out upon it in the gathering thickness of night; gazed with but one eye, her right. The left was an empty eye socket that had grown over with the smooth velvet of fur. It had been that way since birth and Kida, after the separation from her sister, had kept to herself.
Except she is not alone this night; out there, a stallion stirs and shakes the snow from his back then moves towards the river. She can feel how thick the thirst lies in her own throat and she sighs, thinking it may not be a bad idea to trail after him. The black mare had a light blanket of snow that had amassed along the slope of her own back. She hardly shakes it off - it’ll dislodge itself in small clumps at every step she takes, and she is rather used to snow sticking to her skin (she was raised in the Tundra, reared on snow and cold for much of her life). Kida trails him slowly, not so much following as accepting the fact that the sight of him moving towards the river forced her to acknowledge her own thirst.
The black is bold; she stops alongside of him but not so close that their bodies could accidentally brush against one another. She keeps a meager distance between them and is careful to place him on her right side (all the better to see him!) so that her eye can dart between him and the river not yet iced over. Her lips skim the surface, tasting the wintry water and she sucks down a hearty draught that quenches her thirst easily. She has kept her eye on him all this time and raises her head mere inches above the river, drops sliding off her lips and chin, as she eyes him - he is odd, not remarkably so like those that populate this place as the result of some genetic quirk or another, but in that his fur is curly whereas hers’ is starting to thicken to keep her warm during winter.
Plus he is a rich tawny color like dry cornstalks in an unattended field; he is not some common black (like herself), bay or gray, or chestnut even. Kida doesn’t usually linger on looks, but it has been a long time since she has taken stock of another horse that wasn’t related to her. Granted, it has been an even longer time since she has even bothered to speak to another creature - will her voice even still work? It does, but it comes out in a rusty squeak, “Hello there.” She is typically sassy but the wintry night has left her rather reserved.
ooc: sorry, still trying to figure her out and i'm not quite in character with her yet.
Except she is not alone this night; out there, a stallion stirs and shakes the snow from his back then moves towards the river. She can feel how thick the thirst lies in her own throat and she sighs, thinking it may not be a bad idea to trail after him. The black mare had a light blanket of snow that had amassed along the slope of her own back. She hardly shakes it off - it’ll dislodge itself in small clumps at every step she takes, and she is rather used to snow sticking to her skin (she was raised in the Tundra, reared on snow and cold for much of her life). Kida trails him slowly, not so much following as accepting the fact that the sight of him moving towards the river forced her to acknowledge her own thirst.
The black is bold; she stops alongside of him but not so close that their bodies could accidentally brush against one another. She keeps a meager distance between them and is careful to place him on her right side (all the better to see him!) so that her eye can dart between him and the river not yet iced over. Her lips skim the surface, tasting the wintry water and she sucks down a hearty draught that quenches her thirst easily. She has kept her eye on him all this time and raises her head mere inches above the river, drops sliding off her lips and chin, as she eyes him - he is odd, not remarkably so like those that populate this place as the result of some genetic quirk or another, but in that his fur is curly whereas hers’ is starting to thicken to keep her warm during winter.
Plus he is a rich tawny color like dry cornstalks in an unattended field; he is not some common black (like herself), bay or gray, or chestnut even. Kida doesn’t usually linger on looks, but it has been a long time since she has taken stock of another horse that wasn’t related to her. Granted, it has been an even longer time since she has even bothered to speak to another creature - will her voice even still work? It does, but it comes out in a rusty squeak, “Hello there.” She is typically sassy but the wintry night has left her rather reserved.
ooc: sorry, still trying to figure her out and i'm not quite in character with her yet.