03-27-2020, 10:38 AM
Her home has finally returned to white from its charred black look after the initial assault. Though, the white is a different shade; a slightly grey hue from the ash that blankets the terrain. The footing is dusty now and, even the slightest movement casts a light plume of ash up to your chest. The mint-spotted black huffs into the crisp air as her mint gaze searches for movement. Visibility remains about the same (let's be honest, a tundra has very few variation in its landscape) since the fire charred everything. The only difference are the fluttering bits of ash above the barren ground. Jesla blinks as one lands among her eyelashes.
Sensitive olfactories soon pick up the familiar cologne of Leilan. Her eyelids flutter open as her mint gaze searches for the dark-pointed silver ice-dragon. Another scent reaches Jesla 's nostrils and, she decides to spring into motion. The other's scent is masculine as well. The timing of a newcomer startled the blanket appaloosa though, she has hope that he is an acquaintance of the frosted stag. She would find out soon enough.
Although, the ash and soot is much less slippery than ice, the lean-built mint-spotted rump of the young lady only drives her limbs into a springy trot. Her two-beat gait is well-balanced and covers the ground easily. In no time, Jesla catches sight of Leilan, Icicle Isle's Freyr and, the tri-colored, younger male beside him. No one really looks great after swimming from the mainland. Leilan's build is thick and, when soggy after a swim, he looks mostly the same, except for his golden-streaked mane which plasters to his thick nape. The new guy does not look half-bad either. He bears a hide the color of dirty sand with a dark stripe along his spine. The dappled tawny hue darkens into a sooty brown just above his knees and the outermost points. His lower legs are painted white - a distinct contrast to the coating of ash at their unshod feet. Patches of white hair mark his shoulders, rump and face and, mixes of brown-black and white streak his tresses.
Jesla, herself, offers a warm, welcoming smile and, her mint gaze is a soft shade of green. Bronze-tipped ears are the one aspect of her markings that is obviously her sire's. Well, those bronze tips and, the predominantly black pelt she sports. Flecks of ash dust her velvet fur though, the winter dullness is yielding to a sleeker set of hairs. The mare stands casually and, purposefully, positions herself at a perpendicular angle to the men. She had no intention of a confrontation so, why block their path? Her dad made she sure she understood how body language impacts a conversation. As this was the buckskin overo's first impressions of the Isle, Jesla thought it would be more representative to greet him with warm and inviting body language. Her tone is warm too. "Hello there, sir. I am Jesla. Welcome to the Isle." Her gaze flicks to Leilan before she offers him, "Welcome home, Freyr. Any sign of my father?" She trusted Jesper would return. The question now is, when?
@[Leilan] @[KAMALI]
Sensitive olfactories soon pick up the familiar cologne of Leilan. Her eyelids flutter open as her mint gaze searches for the dark-pointed silver ice-dragon. Another scent reaches Jesla 's nostrils and, she decides to spring into motion. The other's scent is masculine as well. The timing of a newcomer startled the blanket appaloosa though, she has hope that he is an acquaintance of the frosted stag. She would find out soon enough.
Although, the ash and soot is much less slippery than ice, the lean-built mint-spotted rump of the young lady only drives her limbs into a springy trot. Her two-beat gait is well-balanced and covers the ground easily. In no time, Jesla catches sight of Leilan, Icicle Isle's Freyr and, the tri-colored, younger male beside him. No one really looks great after swimming from the mainland. Leilan's build is thick and, when soggy after a swim, he looks mostly the same, except for his golden-streaked mane which plasters to his thick nape. The new guy does not look half-bad either. He bears a hide the color of dirty sand with a dark stripe along his spine. The dappled tawny hue darkens into a sooty brown just above his knees and the outermost points. His lower legs are painted white - a distinct contrast to the coating of ash at their unshod feet. Patches of white hair mark his shoulders, rump and face and, mixes of brown-black and white streak his tresses.
Jesla, herself, offers a warm, welcoming smile and, her mint gaze is a soft shade of green. Bronze-tipped ears are the one aspect of her markings that is obviously her sire's. Well, those bronze tips and, the predominantly black pelt she sports. Flecks of ash dust her velvet fur though, the winter dullness is yielding to a sleeker set of hairs. The mare stands casually and, purposefully, positions herself at a perpendicular angle to the men. She had no intention of a confrontation so, why block their path? Her dad made she sure she understood how body language impacts a conversation. As this was the buckskin overo's first impressions of the Isle, Jesla thought it would be more representative to greet him with warm and inviting body language. Her tone is warm too. "Hello there, sir. I am Jesla. Welcome to the Isle." Her gaze flicks to Leilan before she offers him, "Welcome home, Freyr. Any sign of my father?" She trusted Jesper would return. The question now is, when?
@[Leilan] @[KAMALI]