[open] Silence, come what may; Any

[Famkee]

Her silence is short lived, however the welcoming sounds of running water blossom the midlands with life 
and it's like music to her ears as she begins to venture further into the open of the winter lit meadow. 
It's drab this place in its throes of death, but Famke imagines in spring what beauty beholds the rolling hills
and mountain peaks. What few trees sprout from the ice are withered, spidery talons in dormancy that grab 
at her pelt as she passes through. Dusk begins to paint the sky with its colors, her muzzle pointed to meet the 
sun's farewell as it sets over the alps. A small grin crept across her lips greeting the darkness that offered her 
relief, cover and most of all comfort. Living in the shadows isn't a stranger to her, in fact it's a best friend, one 
that she can hardly wait to see each night. Often she thinks of her brother, her secluded sibling who was in her 
life for such a short while but she wanted to share this with her kin, a new start, a new life for them both. 
She begs for it, a grasp of buoyancy to keep her head at the surface at least long enough for the horned mare 
to see clearly; See what was in front of her, not behind, not digging a hole that's long reached the bottom.

To her dismay, the river is covered by a film of solid sleet, thin enough though to break, she thinks. Approaching 
the river, she breaches the ice with a cautious calculated hoof just big enough to dip her velvet maw, falling in 
wouldnt be the best thing to do unless she wants to freeze even more than she already is. She drinks, swallowing 
the knot that refuses to disperse as she sees him, warily but confident enough to propose her with his presence. 
Not expecting any company, Famke is on the alert splaying her hooves readily, keeping her head low to the water, 
merciless horn directed at the stallion's chest. He reeks of a male, and she knew she could smell something on the 
wind but chose not to listen, as Famke often does. His flavor is almost sweet, musky, and inviting. He isn't all that 
threatening, the small smirk he wears stains his lips like its made to be there, a cordial greeting that should ease her 
worries but yet, she remains stoic. He's quite the spectacle, and she almost envies the black of his coat, like the night 
sky easily blendable into the fray, adorned with striped markings of a predator. He also sports a pair of horns, like her 
nonetheless as her golden eyes explore all he has to offer brazenly. His voice is soft, warm even and she finally takes a 
breath she wasn't aware she was holding. She ponders what his parents must've looked like to birth such an equine, each
time she inspects the stallion there's something new, feathers garnish his shoulders, and his eyes differ in their color as 
he in turn gazes back at her, hopefully. Hope. there it is again to taunt her so. She looks lackluster in comparison, though 
her simple markings shine in his uniquness. Her ebony tail swishes at her hocks, ears unsurely flattened as they tuck away
 hidden inside her mane. She barely realizes he even produced his name, Malik, a stranger offering such privacy Famke couldn't 
grasp. She isn't sure what to do, or even say. She doesn't want to look nervous in front of the stallion, so she holds her ground,
 shoving the distrust down far enough to where it was still seen. "Are you always this friendly?" She says, voice low brushing the silence between the two. 



@ Malik