09-05-2016, 07:31 AM
She says the Desert;
Spear and Spark look at one another, then follow the tobiano mare’s eyes out to the windswept grass. It bends, bows, springs back straight after the wind goes by whistling by it. Something about the wind, the grass, and the mare seems terribly lonely. “Do you miss it?” Spark asks, curious beneath her black-capped ears and forelock. She takes a step closer to Djinni, even as Spear tells the mare their names; “I’m Spear and she’s Spark.”
Spear & Spark
They’ve heard of it, but it is all muck and stories to them. Mother told them that she had been of the Desert prior to the gods (or maybe it was another of Coyote’s tricks…) sending a great flood to turn desert into sea. They would not have known the Tundra if the Desert had not been flooded; Scalped would have birthed them on the hot sands in the shadow of saguaro instead of just outside the ice wall that kept the Tundrans in and the rest, out.
Their eyes go wide; she is like a relic to them.
They’ve never met another aside from mother, who can claim any residual tie to the Desert that she often spoke about. Even then, Scalped’s tie was thin and breakable at best - she had not been there long, only long enough to push two daughters out onto the sands, and talk to the queen and her daughter.
Spear and Spark look at one another, then follow the tobiano mare’s eyes out to the windswept grass. It bends, bows, springs back straight after the wind goes by whistling by it. Something about the wind, the grass, and the mare seems terribly lonely. “Do you miss it?” Spark asks, curious beneath her black-capped ears and forelock. She takes a step closer to Djinni, even as Spear tells the mare their names; “I’m Spear and she’s Spark.”