It doesn’t take long to snag something on her line and reel in a victim.
Tossing her delicate skull, she spots a figure coming up from behind on the path she had created through the snow. A wry grin finds her mouth as she forces herself to speed up, sending up sprays of white, muscles straining against her sweat-slicked coat as he begins to gain on her. A flash of gray catches the figure again, a male, as she leads him on this wild chase to nowhere. There is something on his face that makes her cheshire grin grow only bigger. He calls to her over the pounding of their mutual hoofbeats and she laughs, a haunting melody that catches on the wind and carries back to him. “Life!” She yells back to him as she throws back her head and lets the cold wind run its fingers through her disheveled ivory mane.
The strain of her gallop, the cold air in her lungs, it begins to slow her steps but still she pushes forward as she calls over her dappled shoulder to him again. “And you?” She asks, thinking she might already know the answer. They were all running from something, even her.
Deep down, she is pleased that the stallion has not tried to slow her pace or even tried to stop her. There is that thrill of anticipation, that excitement that comes with being reckless. There is something about running with a stranger that for a moment makes her forget that this was all part of a larger purpose. For a second, she is truly free.
Seeing red again
@claudius