deep roots are not reached by the frost - any

[Venom + Virus]

you gotta see the artistry,
in tearing the place apart with me

They are growing tired of the forest.

They have reigned carnage upon the little creatures of the undergrowth, and while they certainly enjoyed it for a time, the little cruelties grow stale. They long for bigger things, for adventure, for creatures to pull in under the sway of the Cove, of Grandfather and the ancestor Gods.

So they wander further still.

They leave the cover of the trees and wander out into the open plain, and they are most pleased by what they see. Dozens of horses dot the snowy landscape, horses of almost every colour and shape imaginable. They had known of course, that there were others - Mother and Grandfather had said as much, of course - but to see them with their own eyes is something else. To see colours other than shades of purple is something else.

They walk in step, two purple and black foals side by side, green eyes scanning the horses they pass in open interest. They spy more wings, more horns (single horns, how odd!), a frost covered giant (how curious!), and colours, oh the colours! They see spots and stripes, blues, greens, silver … and a spot of red and black in a pond.

They stop in unison, green eyes narrowing in curiosity as one. There’s a horse in the pond, a horse that’s broken through the ice and is struggling to stay afloat. Together they turn to look at each other, answering one another with a slightly unsettling smile, then turn back in the direction of the pond. They walk until they reach the pond, then stop to study the horse’s predicament.

“You’re stuck,” observes Virus, nodding knowingly to her sister. And well and truly stuck the mare is. The ice around her is thin and the pond deep, offering no purchase for her flailing hooves. What a foolish creature to get herself in such a position. “We can help you,” she calls, “well, she,” she indicates her sister with a nod, “can help you.” Venom smiles prettily, taking a step closer to the pond’s frozen edge. “But what will you give us if I do?” The mare might wonder what on earth two foals, not even past their first birthdays, might be able to for her. But she won’t have long to make up her mind and make an offer - the cold will soon start to set in.

venom&virus

Btw radar, I found an old html that I believe Call might have made for Merida. Would you be interested in it?