Post by Rivre on Dec 21, 2011 8:49:39 GMT
She had no idea really what brought her to such a low area of the high country, apart from the allure of escaping a harsh winter, as the one approaching may well be. Sceantra wove between the dark trunks of the candlebarks, her own almost black hide merging with the colours of the brush, only when the light caught it throwing the chocolate ember into a slowly stirring fire. She hadn't been on the move long, she had spent the night under the cover of some gums higher up the slight decline beside a fast running creek. The curled coffee toned locks that reached to past the line of her shoulder fluttered in the breeze she made, sometimes stirred by the chilling wind that rose and fell with the hilly country. She was careful not to hassle the ground, to misplace anything that would give her path away and so she moved with a mute silence, the only sound the soft rise and fall of her chest and the air that escaped her nostrils as she walked on.
Sceantra was in no rush, she didn't see the need to be when she was as concealed as herself, but the faint scent of other horses that grew stronger as she wove on - then the sound of rocks being disturbed very close to her off-side made her pick-up the pace for a moment, swerving so that she took a deeper and less frequented trail. She paused for a moment to peer out at the passing herd - a strong and lean grey stallion with a plain mare or two, not particularly handsome, but then Sceantra had nothing to compare them to. Blowing hot air softly from her nostrils, careful not to make a sound the grey might catch, her steaming tendrils disturbed the leaves in front of her and they fell to her hooves quietly. Autumn was making a quick descent this year.
Turning away from the now bickering mares she began on her way once more, picking up a slow trot. She had to leap once in a while to avoid knocking a stone or disturbing the shale path, but fortunately the areas in which she had to take the most drastic action there were patches of heather to absorb the shock. It was only mid-morning, so it was still quite cold and frost still inhabited some of the wilting ferns and brush, little activity from the surrounding wildlife. She didn't really know to where she was heading, but the sudden spacing of trees suggested her cover was about to come to an end. Slowing to a walk she circled left to avoid leaving the barks but so that she could see out onto the open plain. Three or four bimbles could be spotted in the distance, but only as specks on the horizon - this grassy flat was monumental!
After a moments deliberation the moon filly decided it was safe enough for her to exit her cover and graze a little while. She had the advantage of the wind and being able to see if any horse made off towards her leaving her time for an escape. Stepping out into the meek sunlight, her coat only lighted a little as it was an incredibly rich shade of chocolate that was not often seen in moon fillies and not often as prized because of its apparent lack-luster. But to any other horse (that was not the tiny one living inside her head) she would have appeared quite beautiful, for her colours were strikingly contrasting and her mane and tail furled into dread-locks that were unusually long. Snorting and ears pushed forwards she dropped her head to graze, snatching at the long stems and realizing that the herds had not grazed their way this far down the flat yet. She had enough grass to satisfy an entire herd! Blowing softly at the thought she continued with her work, happy enough in solitude as any horse that sought company.
