Storm had no business in the Salem islands whatsoever. He had no real reason in going there, he knew no one there or any of the lands there. He was just bored, and as of then boredom was prodding him to explore, so he gave in. He swam from the Crossings (which he pretty much called a home for the time being) just to wander around in the island that he had never been to. He had actually never been to really any of the islands in truth. He simply didn't like to swim, so he didn't do it when he didn't have to. He was still dripping lightly with beads of salty water as he trotted energetically forward, luminous blue eyes peeled and looking around. He couldn't help but notice this island was very dry and dusty compared to the ones he had seen, but still had vegetation sprouting randomly about. He could see small pools of water in the distance, scarce, but there, as he follow the deeply set trail in the dry earth. Scents of stallions began to twist into his flaring nostrils, and he debated on whether or not he should leave. He wasn't particularly in the mood to fight that day, more set to find new things and quench his dying thirst to find company. He continued on a bit hesitantly, though, along the trail. None of them were even slightly familiar until he was quite some way along the trail. First he smelled the scent of Tuff Luck, a stallion who had lived back in one of Storm's old homes. He never actually met Tuff in person, but came across his scent trail more than once. Then the very humble scent of Twenty-one struck his nostrils. That old man was still alive? Storm shook his head slightly, not sure if it was true or whether he should believe that the cremello stallion he had once resided with was still alive. Either way, he thrust forward into a canter towards the dry land, dirt clouding around his feathered hooves each step. His silver tresses lifted from his nape and danced along as he moved. He slowed when the cracked dry earth turned to sand yet again, and the smell of his old friend quite strong in the air. He was hit by surprise when another scent from his past hit him in the face. Evaline. Storm was so tired of being reminded of his past. He had come to the islands to get away from all of it, but somehow, everywhere he went something would spark up a memory of everything he had done wrong, everything he had failed to do, and everything he had lost. He was sick of everything turning into a subject of disgust, into something he didn't want to deal with any longer. His recent meet with Evaline had definitely sparked up some of those terrible memories. She used to be the female that he felt love for. She was the one who caused him pain, and was the memory he tried to hide from. She was the source of his great depression. Now, it seemed too stupid to him that he had once thought of her as someone he could spend his remaining days with. The bitch of a mare had broken his heart, and broken his sanity. Shattered it. The little pieces were not able to be mended. Because of that sun kissed femme, everything his mother had taught him was no longer relevant to him. Heaving in a deep sigh, he let it back out with a deep call for anyone in the land. He shifted his weight to stand on one hind limb as he waited for any sign of the familiar equine. .Storm. .when it rains, it pours. stallion / eight / black w/white tresses / blue eyes / Shire x Arabian x Thoroughbred x American Warmblood / 17hh / homeless Mastered by Vanilla HTML by Vanilla |