[open] a relit cigarette never tastes the same; any

[Lepis]

staring at the ceiling in the dark same old empty feeling in your heart Lepis has little love for the shadows, or for the things that lurk within them. Few things are better in darkness than in the light of day, and the dun mare doubts any of those are here in the wintery meadow. The bare branches of the trees creak in the wind, and Lepis draws her tricolored wings more tightly to her golden frame. Her shaggy winter coat provides a barrier to the cold, but she’d far prefer the comfort of a steaming spring. She’d not meant to be out this late, but a dark-eyed stallion had heard her query of another stranger, and the tale he spun of a tentacled creature in the Field was too suspect to ignore. It was him, Lepis is sure, but the trail was as cold as the snow at her dun feet – the encounter had taken place in early autumn. Wolfbane is long gone from the common lands now, and the thud of her hooves as she moves through the Meadow are heavier than they need be as she takes out her frustration. The curses she mutters under her breath have long since been silenced, and she is grateful for it as her flaring navy nostrils catch the scent of another horse. Most winter nights she is alone in the Commons, but not so tonight. There is someone ahead, hard to see in the shadows, and the pegasus raises her head, her blue-grey eyes searching the darkness. There, not so far away: another mare. An overabundance of caution is not possible in these dark days, but Lepis has enough faith in her wings and her magics for a faint smile to appear on her blue mouth when she says over the sound of the wind: “If you’ve plans to eat me, fair warning that I’m rather sour.” @[Topsail] LEPIS staring at the bottom of your glass-- hoping one day you’ll make a dream last but dreams come slow and they go so fast

hello dibs!