Posted on May 11, 2013 at 10:09:02 PM by SYNDROME
There was a coldness here, in the forest. Not only did the chill of winter prod at Syndrome's coat, but so too did the chill of something else, prodding at her mind. Though her voice itself was flat and called no attention - it was in such a tone that it might not have been heard, had the red stallion and the painted mare not been listening - there was something beneath her voice, directed at Vercingetorix, that glared and paced the confines of her throat but did not dare try and escape. Of course, she had every right to unleash her fury upon the stallion, though Syn doubted it would bring her daughter back.
When Fleete stood next to the painted mare she seemed to regain a little bit of strength, though not a substantial amount. Syndrome wanted to lean into her for support, but didn't move in case she caused some sort of offense. Instead she picked up her strength and held it in her chest and neck, drawing herself up until she felt as if she might tower, though she knew she did no such thing. She was simply a mare. But it felt better to be activated, to be aware of every muscle in her body, though she didn't move them.
She turned to Vercingetorix. He seemed tired, defeated almost. Syndrome held anger towards him, yes, but at the same time she was grateful because she knew that another stallion might have broken her to get his way. Though he was not exactly gentle, at least he was not abusive; though she was not happy here, at least she was safe.
IT’S A REVOLUTION, I SUPPOSE; WE’RE PAINTED RED TO FIT RIGHT IN.
----------------------------------- Syndrome | 3 years | 17hh | silver grullo tobiano
----------------------------------- Syndrome | 3 years | 17hh | silver grullo tobiano
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- here the world is quiet - By f l e e t e May 25, 2013 at 10:03:22 PM
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