Always the hungry artist. any Posted on April 2, 2020 at 03:36:32 PM by SIGHURD
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She looked as if a great sea creature had chewed her up and spat her out onto the shores. Matted and shaggy, there was no glory to behold in her image. Viewers would think her sickly or frail.
Sighurd was little more than a little red stain ruining the pretty view of a snow encrusted river jutting out into the ocean.
A little crooked and a little frazzled, the red pony does what she can to fix herself after a great swim. Rubbing crudely against a tree, she moans softly to herself as it scratches the unreachable itch on her shoulder, leaving behind little clumps of red hair that ought to be keeping her warm.
Someone had told her grand things about this place, stories of love and adventure that she had worshipped as a child, wide eyed and still curious.
For now, she is hungry and there is barely a speck of grass to be seen, from her little viewpoint of the tree atop it’s snow knoll in an otherwise wide open expanse. Listening to the empty howl of her gut and still scratching… scratching… scratching… she ponders her path. The river is a lazy one, barely cutting through the field and without too many twists and turns.
Perhaps to follow it would bring her into the landing pad of this place, but for now her throat hums as she enjoys the pleasure of the tree scraping against her skinny body.