WELCOME TOTHE SHOW
It had been a long travel. Her hooves ached, and she was weary with exhaustion. But it was definitely worth it.
She had already lost two herds: the one she'd been born in, and the one she'd been welcomed into. Neither had been true herds, more bands of stragglers than anything. Hopefully a true herd, like the one she'd heard to have lived in Nerine, would be well-established enough to not fall apart at the first sign of trouble. Hopefully they would let her join; while she may not be the strongest, or largest horse, she was nice and fast, and hopefully they would find a use to her.
Ravenwing would happily be the herd punching bag if they took her in, so long as they did. She couldn't take care of herself on her own, didn't want to. The years of hard living showed on her body, her ribs visible through her pelt, and scars visible if one were close enough. She could help, somehow, so long as they let her try.
The black mare's head hung low, and her sides heaved as she walked. She'd not slept in days, heading towards the coast as fast as she could. She knew she was getting close; the place smelt of salt and sea-breeze, the soil under her hooves almost entirely sand, and the horizon dotted with the ocean.
She forced herself to perk up, sniffing the air. The black coated mare walked carefully down the cliff, finding herself to be standing on a beach, sand shifting under her hooves. The ocean sure was a sight, like nothing she'd seen before.
The young mare walked up to the ocean, and lifted her head up, content to simply drink in the sight of the ocean.
She had already lost two herds: the one she'd been born in, and the one she'd been welcomed into. Neither had been true herds, more bands of stragglers than anything. Hopefully a true herd, like the one she'd heard to have lived in Nerine, would be well-established enough to not fall apart at the first sign of trouble. Hopefully they would let her join; while she may not be the strongest, or largest horse, she was nice and fast, and hopefully they would find a use to her.
Ravenwing would happily be the herd punching bag if they took her in, so long as they did. She couldn't take care of herself on her own, didn't want to. The years of hard living showed on her body, her ribs visible through her pelt, and scars visible if one were close enough. She could help, somehow, so long as they let her try.
The black mare's head hung low, and her sides heaved as she walked. She'd not slept in days, heading towards the coast as fast as she could. She knew she was getting close; the place smelt of salt and sea-breeze, the soil under her hooves almost entirely sand, and the horizon dotted with the ocean.
She forced herself to perk up, sniffing the air. The black coated mare walked carefully down the cliff, finding herself to be standing on a beach, sand shifting under her hooves. The ocean sure was a sight, like nothing she'd seen before.
The young mare walked up to the ocean, and lifted her head up, content to simply drink in the sight of the ocean.
wordstagged