07-30-2022, 03:56 PM
Myrna has not told anyone about the quest. When she’d woken up, confused and disoriented on the Mountainside, the world around her had been in chaos. The palomino doesn’t know how long the storm had lasted, but she had found her mother and sisters amidst the driving rain, and felt immense relief at the sight of them. She’s not strayed far from them since, but in a world so strange and new as the Brilliant Pampas, there is much to do even within earshot of her family.
Today she picks her way along the riverbank, every now and then stepping into the water. Her steps are quick when she must do so, for the water is cold. The sun has not yet risen to warm the shallows that she splashes through, and the heat of yesterday had been lost during the star-speckled night.
Myrna had been awake most of the night, watching those stars.
She has not slept much since the storm.
Her left hind foot lands on something sharp in the water. Myrna sucks in a quick breath and looks down. A shake and once over confirms it'll only be a bruise, leaving her free to inspect the water to see what it was she’d come up against, avoiding placing weight on her injured foot. She lowers her head, and the faint glow that emanates from her white horns casts a weak light into the shallow water.
There - the pointed tine of an elkear antler, broken and mostly buried beneath the mud of the river bank. Myrna reaches toward it, grasping it between the sharp teeth of the canine form she wears. She’ll take it to the den with the fox kits she’d discovered the other day, Myrna thinks, and watch them wrestle with it. For now she tosses it farther up the bank, then takes a better look at her surroundings so as to remember where she stands.
In the darkness of predawn, most of the world is in shadow. Most of it is sleeping as well, but was that movement? The pale golden wolf becomes still, and a moment later becomes a flaxen palomino mare instead, her grey-blue eyes narrowed as she searches the darkness for what she might have seen.
Today she picks her way along the riverbank, every now and then stepping into the water. Her steps are quick when she must do so, for the water is cold. The sun has not yet risen to warm the shallows that she splashes through, and the heat of yesterday had been lost during the star-speckled night.
Myrna had been awake most of the night, watching those stars.
She has not slept much since the storm.
Her left hind foot lands on something sharp in the water. Myrna sucks in a quick breath and looks down. A shake and once over confirms it'll only be a bruise, leaving her free to inspect the water to see what it was she’d come up against, avoiding placing weight on her injured foot. She lowers her head, and the faint glow that emanates from her white horns casts a weak light into the shallow water.
There - the pointed tine of an elkear antler, broken and mostly buried beneath the mud of the river bank. Myrna reaches toward it, grasping it between the sharp teeth of the canine form she wears. She’ll take it to the den with the fox kits she’d discovered the other day, Myrna thinks, and watch them wrestle with it. For now she tosses it farther up the bank, then takes a better look at her surroundings so as to remember where she stands.
In the darkness of predawn, most of the world is in shadow. Most of it is sleeping as well, but was that movement? The pale golden wolf becomes still, and a moment later becomes a flaxen palomino mare instead, her grey-blue eyes narrowed as she searches the darkness for what she might have seen.