speech
Timberwolf is no stranger to silence. There is the quietness of a lazy summer day, broken only by the cheerful music of insects and the drowsy whisper of an ocean breeze. There is the heavy hush between almost forgotten lovers, just before they embrace. There is the peacefulness one experiences just before sleep. So many different types of near soundlessness. But nothing like this.
The eeriness of this quiet has the pale grullo mare startled. This one is thick; oppressive. A warning that something lurks behind the misty trunks of the forest she has found herself in.
Uneasily, she pushes deeper among the trees and shrubs, heading towards the spot of light that illuminates the dense fog ahead. She moves with the elegant stealth of her namesake, careful to perpetuate the tense stillness coating the land. Still, Timberwolf can sense eyes tracking her every move as she picks up the pace.
Luckily, the vegetation has begun to thin to reveal a misty meadow. Timber breaks into it with a loud crash before spinning around to eye the treeline. Among the branches she spots a pair of feline eyes staring back. Shivering, the young mare paws at the ground and releases an uneasy whicker. Almost reluctantly, the amber gaze vanishes.
Satisfied that she is safe, Timber turns her attention to this new land she has stumbled into. The shapes of many other equines dot the mist coated meadow and in the distance, she can hear the sound of a waterfall. The few trees that dot the open expanse of land bear yellowing leaves while the grass itself remains a lush green. Ears perked, the mare stalks towards the nearest tree - one conveniently free of occupants both equine and feline.
It is here that Timber finally comes to a rest with a soft sigh. Lazily, she leans against the rough bark of the tree and settles in to watch her companions wander in the mist. Should one find her, she would certainly be glad for the company; however, the grullo is content to observe for now.
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