Perhaps it is simply perserverance Posted on April 2, 2020 at 09:36:48 PM by SIGHURD
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The hot little grumble in her gut was mostly hunger.
Setting the tip of her toe into the snow would uncover a little bit of grass, flattened by the cold and bitter to the taste. Gross. She would think to herself, flipping her red ears back as she lamented the lack of gourmet feasts in this new strange land.
Not that she had ever eaten so well in whatever patch of trees she grew up in, but one always likes to think that the grass is greener on the other side.
The meadow was not lacking for activity, and while she rummaged around in the snow and scratched her unscratchable scratches on trees, she watched the others gather and come and go with quiet, smart, dark little eyes. Yet the sky was darkening, growing heavy with snow and threatening to spill from the skies and bury them all once again.
As the flakes began to fall, and strangers here and there turned their noses to the heavens, Sighurd eyes the stallion with the striped legs, so much like her kin but so smooth and dark. She is the red spot in the snow, weaving through the drifts as she moves towards him, only turning as a great blue creature finds the stallion first.
The little spitfire is little more than a bright speck next to them, staring up at the blue beast as he speaks to the striped stallion. Someone fed you well in the spring. Sighurd mumbles, her voice deep and barely feminine at all. Are they giants as you are, na?