You’re uncontrollable
and we are unlovable
and we are unlovable
It had been a great idea. Go south with the girl, perhaps run into her mother (those odds were super slim but who new, right), and in the meantime find out if there was anything in the forest the girl could eat. She’s smelled a tiny bit of a large cat, but if that meant she had been around one, around a shifter, had a companion, was one…
Sure, he’d been able to paw some small blubbery patches of grass out of the snow and ice, just about soft enough for a foal to at least try. But it was not enough, and so he’d ventured out. He’d thought of leaving the girl alone, debated if the cold could still kill her - but she follows along easily wherever he goes. And so they’re in the forest, where he hopes they have the best odds of finding horse-like food that is edible for one who should actually have a mother’s milk. Sadly no-one on the Isle or in Nerine had foaled this year.
Yet halfway through, they stumble upon a bit of a crowd. What’s he saying? A large crowd. If the mares weren’t immediately talking -loudly-, he might have guessed they were a group, but it seemed they were introducing and such.
He eyes the filly - then edges on forward, approaching them from a bit of a sideway in comparison to the last directions they came from. ”What’s all this about? Is there a party going on?” he asks them, tilting his head at the man with the badger - his tone had indicated otherwise - then scanning the rest of the horses.
Sure, he’d been able to paw some small blubbery patches of grass out of the snow and ice, just about soft enough for a foal to at least try. But it was not enough, and so he’d ventured out. He’d thought of leaving the girl alone, debated if the cold could still kill her - but she follows along easily wherever he goes. And so they’re in the forest, where he hopes they have the best odds of finding horse-like food that is edible for one who should actually have a mother’s milk. Sadly no-one on the Isle or in Nerine had foaled this year.
Yet halfway through, they stumble upon a bit of a crowd. What’s he saying? A large crowd. If the mares weren’t immediately talking -loudly-, he might have guessed they were a group, but it seemed they were introducing and such.
He eyes the filly - then edges on forward, approaching them from a bit of a sideway in comparison to the last directions they came from. ”What’s all this about? Is there a party going on?” he asks them, tilting his head at the man with the badger - his tone had indicated otherwise - then scanning the rest of the horses.
and I don’t want you to think that I care
I never would, I never could again
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Beryl] here goes!
@[anatomy] and a tag for you since I think it’s your turn / you wanted a crowd, you got it
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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