Wichita had taken to looking down at her hooves after she had finished her brief explanation of the state she was in. She was taken aback at the sudden lack of movement from the other as he spoke. Well, she knew it wasn't right or okay, but she did take solace in the fact that she wasn't the only one who thought so.
The pressure from the clouded maw that met her bistre hued shoulder, was received with little protest. She closed her eyes and hung her crown even further, the lump in her throat struggled to release a flood of emotion that she just would not allow. As the modest contact ended, as quickly as it had begun, once more harmony reached her auds. We're here he said simply and matter o factly. Sepia oculars lifted to take in the view, a winter landscape more beautiful than she could express met her gaze. The lands were hushed, peaceful, and inviting.The frost covered grounds and bare branches were oddly exquisite in her eyes, everything seemed fresh, like there was a blank slate to offer all to make something new.
It wasn't long before other equines pushed their way from the depths of the Kingdom, first a monochromatic colored mare. The scars that adorned her facade did not go unnoticed by Wichita, her eyes softened and her own hurt was swept away by her concern for the other. The mares of her old herd had a special bond, all quite loving and supportive of each other. They slept together, grazed together, and sought comfort from a loving touch that they would only ever receive from each other. It was not unusual (at least to Wichita) as she approached the shadow and light painted femme, as if she had known her always, words softly escaping her maw. "Oh sug," she offered, reaching her velveteen muzzle towards the track of wounds on the others face. She herself was no stranger to seeing such atrocities, most of her ex herd mates had their fair share of disfigurement, though few to a degree such as this.
Another bull reached their small congregation, and she had to wonder if this was all that was left to these lands. This second to greet her was a grey as well, though not the sky hued tone of Jason, and he had pleasant words of greeting for her. The two new faces both seemed to reflect an air of concern, before words to confirm this fact were provided. "Well, I reckon I feel tore slap up," she conceded. " With a bit of spit, and elbow grease I'm sure I'll clear right up. It's nice to meet ya'll I'm Wichita." She gave a small chagrined smile.