08-29-2016, 10:42 AM
First one head then another rears up from a snowbank; They are mired in one of their games, naturally.
But she calls out to any, and they can hear the forlorn note in her voice. It calls forth to their brave, bold hearts and they shake the piles of snow off their heads and their backs, emerging like strange beasts from their snowy play. First one, then the other, trailing a little to the side and behind - it is the colt, he trails his sister in a practiced stallion’s stalk until he darts ahead of her after grabbing at her tail and giving it a tight little tug. “Spear!” she shrieks, in feigned hurt, spinning back and around on her heels to give chase to the mischievous colt; the mare behind them, is forgotten.
Eventually her foreign scent blows back to them and further halts their play; curiosity sinks deep into their bodies and beckons them forth. She has a brimstone stink about her that intrigues them, as they have never scented - let alone explored - anything scorched and sulfuric. They want to know where it is she has come from to smell like that, to have such a stink become so finely ingrained in the fur that it lingers long after one has left the source of it. Plus, her reddish-bay skin is rather pretty against the snowy backdrop of the Tundra but they are still thinking of how she smells so not like them.
“Why do you smell like that?” he says.
“Spear!” she berates her brother with a look. “I’m sorry, he has a habit of blurting things out. Can we help you at all?” Her apology is sincere, as is her offer of assistance to the mare that clearly looks a little lost and far out of her element just standing there, like they’d never let her in.-- Spear & Spark -- |