![[Image: B67136-EA-1021-40-A6-B0-FB-7257403-F0-FAE.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/Pr982NSm/B67136-EA-1021-40-A6-B0-FB-7257403-F0-FAE.png)
Nerica
Her blue eyes are locked on the descending shape in the sky. Nerica's eyes narrow in displeasure as the horse lands. His laugh only made her gaze darken. For no particular reason she already disliked the stallion. Perhaps it was jealousy that he could fly. Perhaps it was her hatred of laughter, it was something that came with happiness. Something she never had. She scowled, her teeth grinding in frustration. Her eyes darted to the other horses in the field. Even though they angered her, frustrated and drove her mad, she didn't want to be alone. So she straggled along keeping the other horses in sight. A miserable and helpless feeling washing over her.
She wished she could fly, then she would feel strong, then she would be free and wouldn't be afraid. At least that's what she thought. The thought of wings made her eyes turn to find the stallion who had flown down a short time ago. She silently watched him approach the other horses. The displeased look never leaving her face.
His wings are beautiful. The thought popped into her mind without warning. But she didn't take it back. They were beautiful wings and she envied them. Her own were dark and limp. A mass of weak shadows, shadows that only served to remind her she couldn't fly. These cursed wings. Nerica took a few deep, frustrated breaths. She was much better at controlling her anger now. If she had been a few years younger, she would have broken down in frustration. Now she just retorted to staring daggers into the strangers beautiful wings.
She wished she could fly, then she would feel strong, then she would be free and wouldn't be afraid. At least that's what she thought. The thought of wings made her eyes turn to find the stallion who had flown down a short time ago. She silently watched him approach the other horses. The displeased look never leaving her face.
His wings are beautiful. The thought popped into her mind without warning. But she didn't take it back. They were beautiful wings and she envied them. Her own were dark and limp. A mass of weak shadows, shadows that only served to remind her she couldn't fly. These cursed wings. Nerica took a few deep, frustrated breaths. She was much better at controlling her anger now. If she had been a few years younger, she would have broken down in frustration. Now she just retorted to staring daggers into the strangers beautiful wings.