Snowstorm Soliloquy

[{ Opal }]

Burilda pulled herself out of the quiet dream, her gaze fighting through the flurry of snow before finally landing on the mare. Would she stay with the grey? Burilda could already see to her heart; she was not ready. She shifted, glancing at the stallion. He didn't deserve to go through this, no matter what was in the mare's being. Burilda could see his torture; her heart reached out for him, but she knew that she ment nothing. Burilda lowered her head, her smooth black forelocks drifting over her clouded eyes. I am sorry...

The mare's haunting figure was concealed by the elements once more as she left for the last and final time. Her call murmured in Burilda's ears before fading away, leaving two words imprinted in her mind: Go swiftly. Burilda watched the stallion, knowing that her second refusal would not keep him at bay. His scream rang through the air, but the currents of wind softened it to a ghostly whisper; a portal to see into his heart and view his sorrow and rage.

"We will dance together." His words were strong. Nothing would keep him from fulfilling them. Burilda watched as the great stallion departed, his mane and tail swirling around his powerful figure. She felt something for him; she knew her heart well, and couldn't ignore it as it cried for him. It wasn't just mere pity, it was more sincere than that. Burilda lifted her head, her stance rigid. She neighed, her voice hiding these words: I shall follow the moon, even as it falls from the sky.

Burilda moved forward, her steps fluid and laced with enchantment as she carried herself quickly over the land. The wind whipped at her mane and tail, before it eased into a calmer current. Burilda's white socks gave her the appearance of dancing on snow as she cantered free of the woods, her eyes searching for the stallion's tracks. She was going to find the great stallion.

[tingara]

The flurries of the snowstorm whipped through black mane as Tingara grazed. One eye watched the mares at his side, the other watched for the return of another. Myrrina, he had taken to grazing close to her and had barely left her side since they’d danced together at the lake. He pined secretly for her when she went to be one with the snow. More than anything the black stallion longed to join her but the others needed him to be there for them, especially being so close to foaling.

Indeed Nevada had hid himself well; Tingara had been unaware of his presence the entire time his rival had been in the valley. The other’s coat hid him deceptively well in the blinding white of the storm. Still the black was edgy, something wasn’t right but he couldn’t say what. Restlessly he began to pace around the mares, stopping every now and then to graze. It wasn’t until Nevada’s soft cry reached his ears, that Tingara found the reason for his restlessness.

Instantly the black’s head snapped up, ears forward listening for any more ghost like cries. The one that had reached him hadn’t outlined what his rival wanted here. His heart began to race as he realised Myrrina was somewhere in the direction of the call. If Nevada touched her he wouldn’t hesitate to... well he didn’t know what he’d do but it wouldn’t be pleasant for the white.

Tearing off in the direction of the cry, Tingara began to call fearfully for Myrrina. She wasn’t just a mare to him, she was his mate, the one who he danced for and who danced for him.