Winter had come to drape it's cold upon the residents of Beqanna, uninvited and unwelcomed for it did not extinguish the threat of the plague. Lior is roused from his slumber, a pile of hair and blissful snores, one lid slides open to expose the silver-white of his waking eye. The usual dark of his solitary cave is now bleeding soft gold across the ceiling and he remarks with a rumbling 'hmpf' of observation.
With a grunt of effort, Lior pushes himself up on his elbow, opening his mouth slowly and making smacking noises as he shook away the long sleep's gentle pleas to return. His thoughts are on his wife and children almost immediately and he needs to find them, to collect and rekindle the bond they all share and bring them all together once more. A single dark leg shoots out, dust plumes to trace the motion as the other leg follows to pull the tall man up and to his heavy hooves. A variety of pops and creaks mock him musically as he stretches to his full capacity. A slow thud-thud of his cracked and peeling hooves echo vividly in the small space of his stone home. The pale eyes trace the honey comb patterns of peeking sun as he exits the safety of his cave.
Snow has already fallen, early and eager, the flakes are ripe and thick with a generous coating across the mouth of the cave and the leaf carpeted forest floor. Now peaks and crevices where the uneven decayed vegetation are the only tell-tale signs of a vivid autumn sunburst. The stallion hesitates a moment, then two, before edging into the sunlight. The peals of gold hungrily engulf the once black man but now he is exposed as the silver-blue of new gun mental. The inky darkness still swathed his legs and hair but he is changed to any face who may have known him before. Against it all, and perhaps the most shocking, is that his eyes are now a pale silver of a full moon, seeming to float against the darkness of his hair and face.
He sighs heavily, looking to the west where the sun lingered still, coyly dipping behind clouds of pastel. The man had thought it was sunrise but instead it was sunset. His eye regards it all with a press of his whiskered lips before moving on with slow, deliberate movements. Others still lingered in Beqanna and Lior intended to question the first one he found of where Nayl and the children were. He had never claimed to be a good father or husband but surely his family still missed him and he had a lot of apologizing to do.
but i can still remember just the way you taste