[open] Silence, come what may; Any

[Famkee]

Silence.

It plagued the land, each footfall against the earth set a new boundary for her she wasn’t sure she wanted to discover. Secrecy lie behind every corner and although it might sound exciting to some,she couldn't shake the coils wound tight in her gut. She wasnt sure just how long her legs carried her through unfamiliar territory, the bitterness eating away at her thoughts of what was or more frightening, what awaited her. 

It was rather dreamlike, senses of reality skewed into threads of the past she desperatley 
ran from, and god damn them all to hell. She knows she should be aware, sight and smells, 
but the numbness is a contagion, ripping through her soul as she watches it burn.
These embers keep her going, and perhaps somewhere she hopes, dreams of solace but hope
is a fickle thing, one that cages her future in uncertainty. For once in the horned mare's existence, she allows herself to surrender, but not without strife. Could she keep going like this? Must the terror grip her so tight that she couldnt breathe, nor open herself to experience this life the way it was supposedto be lived. She knew this, a constant battle of paralysis of the mind, but it protected her, kept her safe.

Silence. 
The air bit at her hide, mouth dry from the cold, her throat begging for a drink to wash 
down the the feeling that she was very much alive. Her darkened golden pelt was like a
beacon against the contrast of the sheets of sprinkled white, she stuck to outskirts of the
meadow like glue, but it was nearly impossible to not be seen as the rebirth of winter
haunted the field leaving it desolate. there was always something beautiful about it, life
and death. Knowing that eventually, the land would flourish and be born anew, but for now
she relishes the feeling of her mane blanketing the skin of her neck offering some warmth
as her breath casts out clouds from her muzzle, the wind is chilling and unwelcome. 
She wonders if she herself is unwelcome here, golden orbs scanning the barren hills of 
the meadow almost waiting for something, someone to appear. Her structure was hardly lithe, 
from what she could reminisce about her childhood, she was rather modest in size if compared
to her parents, or her long lost brother. She believes the strength of her boodline is whats 
kept her alive all these years alone. Feminine is she still, one could not mistake. 
Her mothers beauty graced her physicality, a robust bodice, yet a contradictory 
elegance enriched her anatomy. A body built for war, not parading on the sidelines, 
which is exactly what she finds herself doing. 

She pauses frequently to listen, and thankfully her welcomed silence is her friend time
and again. Completley empty is the land, no, she finds. the scents of others are faint,
but very much there, as are muted hoofprints scattered in paths across  the pelts of ice. She wants to turn around and run, but her legs protest beneath her, nearly shaking her frame. She tries to remember the last time she properly stopped, gave her mind and body alike a rest, but its a cold dark place she doesn’t find the need to revisit. Isolated she has been for so long she isnt sure what would come of an interaction. Certainly its something she's fantasized, but when the world has been so unkind, frankly Famke wants it to stay that way, inside her mind. You might think she'd want to escape the confines of solitary abandonment, to stop being so selfish, cut the ties of this endless loop somehow she finds comfort in. 
Yet, its her home, and why would she want to leave it?