Snow. Once something Altaira had cherished, but now brought back cruel memories. She would always remember when the pure substance had turned crimson with the blood of her beloved. But that was of the past, and the paint refused to look back on it, desperately fighting the flashes of the scene that had lain before her a year back. Damn them. Damn the merciless. Altaira was damning herself, but truly she didn't care. It made sense to do so. The lady had been damned from her first breath. Five years later, and she still was, even more so than before. Such a shame.
It was this fact that kept the mare from being a sniveling mess. Altaira was anything but that. She was the picture of deception. A beautiful, charming gal who could sweep just about any off their feet with a soft laugh and intriguing smile. It was mainly a facade. To draw others into her clutches. She still felt genuine feelings, but it was a rare occurrence. The mare was the perfect example of a classy lady, but she'd step on another's skull to get what she so desired. Oh Altaira, always the trouble maker. Always the adored. Here she was though, not a soul in the world knew her or adored her anymore. She simply trekked through the impossible snow, red coat clashing with the blank ground.
Horses splattered the land, despite the weather. Winter was a necessity. It cleared the weak to bring back the strong. In all honesty it was quite beautiful. The sun had risen not too long ago, casting a pretty gleam over the white field. The mare meandered the space with her head held high, but not overly so. It was clear she wasn't shy, or uncomfortable in anyway. She had become accustomed to being alone. She didn't mind the presence of another. But she did not need it. Once Altaira found her spot, her movement ceased. The paint, left to her own devices, simply surveyed the population among her. Who knows, they may become familiar faces in the future.
OOC: Bleck. Excuse this terrible starter. Just trying to throw her out there ^.^
It was this fact that kept the mare from being a sniveling mess. Altaira was anything but that. She was the picture of deception. A beautiful, charming gal who could sweep just about any off their feet with a soft laugh and intriguing smile. It was mainly a facade. To draw others into her clutches. She still felt genuine feelings, but it was a rare occurrence. The mare was the perfect example of a classy lady, but she'd step on another's skull to get what she so desired. Oh Altaira, always the trouble maker. Always the adored. Here she was though, not a soul in the world knew her or adored her anymore. She simply trekked through the impossible snow, red coat clashing with the blank ground.
Horses splattered the land, despite the weather. Winter was a necessity. It cleared the weak to bring back the strong. In all honesty it was quite beautiful. The sun had risen not too long ago, casting a pretty gleam over the white field. The mare meandered the space with her head held high, but not overly so. It was clear she wasn't shy, or uncomfortable in anyway. She had become accustomed to being alone. She didn't mind the presence of another. But she did not need it. Once Altaira found her spot, her movement ceased. The paint, left to her own devices, simply surveyed the population among her. Who knows, they may become familiar faces in the future.
OOC: Bleck. Excuse this terrible starter. Just trying to throw her out there ^.^