Frosted grass crunched under her feathered hooves as she moved through the lowlands of The Peak. The winter that already held the higher cliffs in its claws was slowly starting to creep its way down the slopes and touch the rest of the land. Adelheid looked around the world through her dark blue eyes and studied this place she called home.
It was still strangely quiet in this land. She was aware of the war, just as she was aware that this place, once a haven, had lost its leadership and possibly its ability to protect those who dwelled in the mountains from the war that raged around them. She breathed heavily, her thoughts seeming to steam out of her mouth with her exhale. This world she had once known had fallen. She looked back up at the jagged horizon. Once the women of the Peak had stood just as tall as their home, their heads as proud as the snow covered spires. She remembered Impazienza had often dwelled on the higher outcroppings, staring down and taking in the world as a whole. The high cliffs held so many memories of peace, hand in hand with memories of horror.
Adelheid had taken it upon herself to walk through the more common trails of the mountains. In part she had come to learn them again, remember what had not changed and familiarize herself with what had. She knew the land had foals who would wander and roam. She had become determined to see to it their safety was ensured, so they could learn, grow, and make mistakes in this dangerous world without true fear of terror.
Her head lowered and white lips touched the crispy grass. She noticed broken stocks and hoof prints starting to make their way up the path, into the mazes of stones. Dark ears flicked with concern and she followed the trail. The friesian mutt stepped resultely, embodying the inherent pride that ran through her blood. When she realized the other horse was a way ahead of her, Adelheid picked up her pace until her hooves also clattered against the stoney trail. It was not until she came to one of the more popular landings that she slowed to a walk as she approached the other mare.
It is beautiful. she said for a greeting as she approached. Be careful not to fall. It is a deadly drop. A deadlier landing when the trees pierced the falling body. The mare’s cold eyes blinked at the memory. She had to shake her head to clear the snarl from her face. Her thick black tail swished behind her and she stepped closer, lowering her head slightly so as not to seem imposing, a trick she was slowly learning. Considering your expression, I am guessing you are new here. Social skills were not high on her list. Her black ears seemed perminantly flicked back, and her blue eyes narrowed. None of her white socked hooves cocked in the stance of comfort many other equines adopted. Instead her dark body stood tall, at attention, and tense. She looked as if she would bite if the whim struck. But she also kept herself at a respectful distance, hoping desperately the distance at least would give the other some comfort that she would not lash out at her, and she was trying to be as friendly as she could be. Though clearly it made her uncomfortable.
AdelheidIt’s Your Illusion - A Fatal Contradiction |