08-20-2016, 07:00 PM
Spear stands over Spark; she is asleep and for now, they are inseparable.
They are babies, and they think they have all the time in the world but time ticks by them in minutes slow as the movement of the stars in the night sky. Before he knows it, Spark is stirring at his feet and he has slept hardly a wink. Morning is distant though, a pale stain on the Tundra’s edge that has yet to reach them. Spear takes a step back and allows Spark to rise and meet him; their noses touch, they breathe one another in and blow each other back out again, their heads bent low and close as they talk of their dreams, or lack thereof. Spark is concerned that once again, Spear has kept watch as she slept - he cannot keep it up, he suffers already for his sleepless nights and Spark is growing more concerned by the moment.
“Spear,” she says softly, her nose traveling up his cheek and back down the expanse of his neck. He pulls his head away from her and looks towards the ice wall that keeps them in and others out (it keep the predators out, but horses still find their way in, he’s noticed). “I don’t want to talk about it Spark,” he cannot help the stern tone of voice that he takes with her; he doesn’t mean to and can see how easily it wounds her. Spear knows her concern for him runs deep - deeper than most probably, since they are cut from the same cloth of Offspring and Scalped. They are not small foals, lacking daintiness and appearing more like wild miniature drafts - Spear especially, he seems to have taken after Offspring more so than their mother, for his build is bulky and feathered, whereas Spark is a little more refined and almost as big as her brother.
“Fine,” she murmurs, hardly pleased at how he dismisses his lack of sleep so readily. Spark turns her head in the direction he is looking in, one eye is black and the other on the right side of her face is red (his are the same as hers, only his red eye is on the left side of his face). She seems to be considering something and Spear is curious as to why she is so quiet all of a sudden. He reaches out to bump his nose against her shoulder in hopes of drawing her attention back to him fully; “Spark…” he starts to apologize but she shakes her head at him, refusing to hear his utterances of regret and instead, she nips at his neck and says, “Come on.” He is startled for a moment, it isn’t like her to take the lead - he does, naturally, because he’s a colt and he came into the world first before she did.
Spear trails after Spark towards the South; they arrive in a land unfamiliar to them but it appears safe and populated only by foals like them. Spark slows, lets Spear overtake her as she is too busy looking around her at the plants and things that creep and grow out of the earth. She starts to poke her nose through the bushes, careful to sniff the air just in case she pokes her nose into a fox’s lair or something equally dangerous to her little (but not so little!) self. Instead, she smells a foal nearby - a filly, she thinks and before Spear can turn to her, she’s gone! He spins around in a small circle, aghast, “What the hell?” he mutters, before yelling his sister’s name at the top of his good strong lungs, “SPARK!” She pokes her head back out of the bushes and grins at him, “Just come here!” and she disappears again, leaving Spear to shake his head and slowly follow her into the dense thicket.
“Look!” she gestures with her nose towards the filly, “I found someone.”
Spear takes a few steps closer to the bay roan that lays just ahead of them, “Yeah and I think you woke her up too.” Spark just laughs and steps as close as her brother does, they really don’t know personal boundaries, not when they are twins and always next to each other in some way.