The way is long, but Popinjay’s people are nomads, and so she had no trouble keeping up with the golden Lethy as they ford rivers, wind through forests, and navigate the rocky, varied terrain of Loess. She is designed for travel and sturdily built in spite of her small size. The river was a wonder, wide and wild in places with frothing whitewater, foaming and rabid, and other places still as glass but deep. Here currents ran swift beneath a motionless surface, ready to sweep away the unwary, to catch them up in the crevices between hidden logs and boulders, to drown them beneath that peaceful deception.
Popinjay was wary at the water’s edge, employing a strategic advance and retreat method. In her short time, her family had never brought her to such a large body of water, they had regularly visited small, well-used, ponds along their ancient paths, and so she was instinctively wary of it and the treeline at its far shore. As they traced its eastern bank, she was quiet and watchful, glittering eyes gliding over the silent trees that hid the rest of the forest from them, but as they came to the shallows where they could safely cross, her demeanor became much more relaxed and she played in the riffles and small pools where shoals of tiny minnows hid away from the shadowy catfish and bass lurking in the deeper pools.
A high, childish laugh pealed from her throat as she bounced into the shallows, throwing water high, gleaming and flashing in the sunlight, her coat slick and black with wet. The minnows scrambled away, melting from her path in well-practiced panic.
After the river, the forest. For a time, the filly was quiet again, but this lasted only a short while. At first, the thud of their hoofbeats was so close in her ears, and she kept a tight formation with the mare, peering into the shadows of every copse and blinking in the sudden light that broke through the canopy above. Quickly, though, she found herself at ease, in spite of the snow-slick leaves and loam underfoot. She scampered ahead, diving between trees so that Lethy blinked in and out of sight, and she, nearly invisible but for the wide star upon her brow which flashed brilliant in the dappled light. A flicker laughed above and she answered it with a high pitched whinny, rearing up, front hooves thumping dully against the trunk of its tree. In response, the bird simply cocked its head to focus one black eye down on her, and then flew away with a flash of yellow and white.
Soon, however, the forest opened, the trees grew smaller and further apart until, topping a rocky hill, the kingdom of Loess spanned ahead of them. As she did in the den, presented with this open space, Popinjay took off, legs pumping furiously, breath coming in spurts and puffs. She ran straight, leaping nimbly over low spots until the ground came up suddenly and hard. Betrayal! With a crash, she crumpled and rolled, scuffing knees and nose, and slid to a stop in a small grouping of ferns. She squealed angrily and leapt to her feet, wincing when a pointed rock found a tender spot on the underside of her forehoof, then struck the ground and trotted back to Lethy, ears pinned and eyes flashing.
It took longer to cross Loess than any other part of their journey and she remained sour for most of it, nostrils pinched so her breath came in a hiss She was not going to forgive it that quickly for the stone bruise. Instead she was temperamental, her mood mercurial and quick to turn from laughter to thunderclouds. She tore at the vegetation around her as they passed and whipped it through the air, making the tall grasses whistle, and leaving pockmarks of pollen against her dark shoulders. But at last, the rocky hills gave way to another forest with trees that were impossibly tall. The border of Taiga. The filly could not hold her anger any longer in this different terrain. Instead she remembered Lethy’s promise of Large Barry Bushes, and so her thoughts turn, at last, from childish anger to excitement.
Popinjay was wary at the water’s edge, employing a strategic advance and retreat method. In her short time, her family had never brought her to such a large body of water, they had regularly visited small, well-used, ponds along their ancient paths, and so she was instinctively wary of it and the treeline at its far shore. As they traced its eastern bank, she was quiet and watchful, glittering eyes gliding over the silent trees that hid the rest of the forest from them, but as they came to the shallows where they could safely cross, her demeanor became much more relaxed and she played in the riffles and small pools where shoals of tiny minnows hid away from the shadowy catfish and bass lurking in the deeper pools.
A high, childish laugh pealed from her throat as she bounced into the shallows, throwing water high, gleaming and flashing in the sunlight, her coat slick and black with wet. The minnows scrambled away, melting from her path in well-practiced panic.
After the river, the forest. For a time, the filly was quiet again, but this lasted only a short while. At first, the thud of their hoofbeats was so close in her ears, and she kept a tight formation with the mare, peering into the shadows of every copse and blinking in the sudden light that broke through the canopy above. Quickly, though, she found herself at ease, in spite of the snow-slick leaves and loam underfoot. She scampered ahead, diving between trees so that Lethy blinked in and out of sight, and she, nearly invisible but for the wide star upon her brow which flashed brilliant in the dappled light. A flicker laughed above and she answered it with a high pitched whinny, rearing up, front hooves thumping dully against the trunk of its tree. In response, the bird simply cocked its head to focus one black eye down on her, and then flew away with a flash of yellow and white.
Soon, however, the forest opened, the trees grew smaller and further apart until, topping a rocky hill, the kingdom of Loess spanned ahead of them. As she did in the den, presented with this open space, Popinjay took off, legs pumping furiously, breath coming in spurts and puffs. She ran straight, leaping nimbly over low spots until the ground came up suddenly and hard. Betrayal! With a crash, she crumpled and rolled, scuffing knees and nose, and slid to a stop in a small grouping of ferns. She squealed angrily and leapt to her feet, wincing when a pointed rock found a tender spot on the underside of her forehoof, then struck the ground and trotted back to Lethy, ears pinned and eyes flashing.
It took longer to cross Loess than any other part of their journey and she remained sour for most of it, nostrils pinched so her breath came in a hiss She was not going to forgive it that quickly for the stone bruise. Instead she was temperamental, her mood mercurial and quick to turn from laughter to thunderclouds. She tore at the vegetation around her as they passed and whipped it through the air, making the tall grasses whistle, and leaving pockmarks of pollen against her dark shoulders. But at last, the rocky hills gave way to another forest with trees that were impossibly tall. The border of Taiga. The filly could not hold her anger any longer in this different terrain. Instead she remembered Lethy’s promise of Large Barry Bushes, and so her thoughts turn, at last, from childish anger to excitement.
Popinjay
.........
@[Izora Lethia]
Hope you don't mind I started the thread here, I felt like writing lol
