Oh this blasted heat!
The spotted mare shifts uncomfortable in the heat of the sun, grimacing as her coat slowly grows damp with sweat. How on earth do horses live in this? How do they stand it? She knows she’s at a disadvantage with her thick winter coat, but even without it, she knows she would be too hot. Ugh.
She’s considering following the line of the border until she finds a shadier spot, when a loud whinny echoes out across the dunes. Her head flicks upward, immediately cautious. She doesn’t see anyone at first, but after a few moments a tiny flicker of movement catches her eye. On a faraway dune stands a lump of white and black - a stallion she thinks, by the tone in its voice. She raises her voice, hoping that the sound will carry against the wind now sweeping over the dunes. “Are you alright?” Who knows if he will be able to hear her. She considers crossing the border to go check on him (he’s much deeper in the kingdom than she), but is interrupted by the rustle of feathers overhead. “Zilpah!”
Her older sister alights delicately on the sand in front of her, and she can’t help but feel a little jealous. Zilpah looks comfortable and cool, as if the blazing heat raining down on them doesn’t bother her at all. And to top it off, her half sister is sporting a gorgeous pair of feathered wings. Rosalinde bears a sideways glance at the little brown pathetic things sprouting out of her own shoulders. Argh. She wouldn’t have even had them the last time she saw Zilpah. Damn faeries.
The bay mare mentions shade, and she immediately perks up. “Oh yes please!” Anything to get out of this godawful heat. She sees her half-sister’s eyes drift to the stallion standing on the dune, and her own eyes follow suite. He doesn’t appear to have moved since she last looked his way. “I wonder if he’s quite alright.”
rosalinde
the things we love destroy us every time
