Adria
I felt nothing at all, freedom of the fall
Rightfully she’s got no reason to be here. Her behavior had been crude at best and without an explanation to tack onto the action of abandonment, Adria could hardly be surprised that Jinn would want to avoid her (though she hasn’t seen him nor does she possess the power to read another’s mind.) It would be a lie to say the tri-colored sabino wanted to be in the Forest anyways, since every hesitant step and wild glance of her eyes screams how uncomfortable dry land makes her, but the Nereid is bound and determined to right at least one wrong in this backwards world.
“Hello?!” She sings out into the void, sensing a watchful gaze even if she doesn’t hear anything. The seamare pauses in her journey and waits, rigid with uncertainty, fetlock-deep in the untouched snow. Her mane and tail have frozen over hard, one stiff against her now-dry neck and the other hanging in a clump of tendrils between her white-smattered hocks. She waits a moment longer, tilts her narrow visage to one side, and catches the dead stare of a quiet animal in the distance. Obscured as the stallion is, the sliver of his emblazoned face that peeks out from behind a thick trunk betrays his position. Adria swallows deeply, and then inhales.
“Ah yes, I … hello out there, first of all-” The newly-minted diplomat (slash warrior, if one could believe it) stumbles to say, “I’m, uhm, we’ll I’m looking for someone and if … if you could trouble yourself to help me?” She murmurs, just a fish out of water and terribly shy despite how her feet begin to move again, leading her nearer towards the trunk where she’s sure the other horse is hiding. “Maybe you’ve seen him, a stallion? Black and gold. Maybe he’s come this way?” She asks, a bit stronger. The cadence of her accent as it bounces hollow between the trees lends a bit of comfort to the mare, and a tremble she wasn’t even aware of stops giving her shivers.
Nearer to him but no nearer to an answer she pauses, all four legs coming to a graceful standstill in the bitter drift of winter’s thick powder. Overhead the raspy cry of two perched crows breaks the dingy silence, answering her questions with throaty laughs, caw, caw, hah, hah!
“... hello?” She whispers.
@[Jinn]