Post by Snowfrost on Dec 25, 2011 16:35:31 GMT -5
"I don't start a commotion; I am one."
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When one thinks of Quul, they imagine a white hell hole. A desolate icy dungeon, made to engulf horses and never release them. The general idea for the Tundra was a place where one should never be able to thrive, but for those souls who had an adventurous streak in them who decided to see for themselves what the land was like, they'd discover the truth. Behind the facade of being a dangerous land, Quul was manageable. However, the Tundra was certainly not for the weak. Even in the warmer months and seasons, the constant snow levels were something the hooves had to adjust to. But, it could be done. And it was done. She'd done it. She'd held her head high and braved the myth of the land. During summer, Eneka had ventured into the wonderland.
However, with autumn now rolling into the picture (finally), the mare picked up quickly on the change. Any sane horse who was not native to the land would take the early sign as a ticket to depart, but the grullo mare wanted to extent her stay a little while longer. The summer was marvelous, to say the least. A change in scenery, a new terrain -- it was exciting, really. She'd never felt so happy simply exploring. And well, she wasn't keen on returning to the normal flat landscape of Sagren or the forest of Nebuul. Sure, the knowledge of Quul's existence did make her wonder about the possibilities for lands in other places, but not enough that she eagerly bounded off toward the next direction the wind pulled her to.
The soft crunch of her presence was much lighter than it was when she'd first arrived. Why, she was nearly certain that, in a few month's time -- perhaps a year's, even; less if she'd encountered a native -- she'd be able to barely be heard at all in her walking. She trotted lazily under the largely-leaved trees, her nostrils flared, tail lifted gently, eyes alert; her countdown was already happening, and the mare knew she'd have to leave sooner or later. She was not a native to the land, and she had enough sense to know that it would be difficult for a horse of her build to live through a winter in the Tundra. Though it wasn't something she liked -- accepting that something could defeat or weaken her -- but she had gotten the fact to set in. She could always return next summer, if she wanted. This, thankfully, eased the sting of realization.
Rustling to the side caught her attention, her ears jerking forward lightly upon impulse, only to fall back in the same instant at annoyance of her own jitteriness. The two hares that appeared only moments later made her irritation grow even more. Halting, ears glued to her skull, Eneka snorted softly as she watched the two hares bound after one another in a sort of game between them. With a sharp snort and lash of her tail, the mare rolled her eyes and tossed her head to the side. A moment's pause with her attention diverted from the two rodents, the painted mare shook her neck out with another snort and stamped her right front sharply. "Stupid pests.." Through uttered words, the mare glanced back again, tossing her head over her shoulder only slightly so she could watch them disappear again in the undergrowth.
Eneka tossed her head again back to where it was before, away from the scene. Another lash of her tail, another sharp snort. The mare would probably never admit the mild jealousy at the image. She'd been alone for as long as she could remember, really. Aside from her sister, she'd never been one for company. Still, though, adventure could only fill so much of ones desire. However, the thoughts ticked her off more. With a quick jerked motion, Eneka pulled her chin in a lashing motion and shook out her neck again, stamping her front right a couple of times. Another snort.
"Pests," With a quick clash of teeth and through rolled eyes, Eneka tossed her head back over and threw her body into a rough canter, which softened as she moved more. A quick squeal, followed by a jerked lashing of hooves to the air, and she was off down the clear path of snow, lost in thought.
ooc; Open to anyone! She's just running, thinking to herself. She's pretty out of it right now, but getting her attention shouldn't be hard.