let my shadows prove the sunshine
Svedka is unsure as to what draws him into the snow-laden woods. In another time, he would blame his wanderlust spirit; an ancient instinct to move from place to place, never settling down. Now, however, he is not so sure.
Too often have things been taken from him, swept away without warning. It has become a recurring thought in his head - why him? Why steal his life with the curse of a shapeshifter, why bring him to the afterlife and back again, only to succumb to the underworld that now craves his own flesh? He wonders often if he should have stayed there, amidst the blackness and the silence. Would that be better than to wander earth-side with the creeping dread looming over him?
Fresh snow crunches gingerly beneath his hooves, crystalline and nearly untouched. The trees are tall and silent, sentient yet forever mute, their dark limbs stretching to a gray, cloudy sky. Dusk was approaching, Svedka could tell, signaled by the shiver that runs hastily down his spine. The thinness of his coat gives him away - a Tephran born stallion out of place(a once prince, and even a ruler) amidst the snowdrifts of winter.
Another chill vibrates through his bones and this time he stops, for it was not the cold that instigated it.
He snorts, lifting his head slightly as a plume of vapor condenses around the stark white and deep gold of his face.
Not surprisingly, he feels as though he is being watched.
svedka
@[aureline]