Meadow

Long lashes, sparkling with the morning dew from the air, blink slowly over wandering dark eyes. Spring was in the air, carrying the promises of new love and futures on it’s playful tugging winds that caress ever so gently against the ebony cheek of the mare standing alone in the meadows, her head upturned to take in the morning warmth from the sun a moment before looking around her again. She’d not been here long, escaping the watchful eye of her friend, to venture out on her own. This place was peaceful, and the grass was lush and full of life; she was almost tempted to help herself to such a feast but many seasons of being on hot sand and sparse foliage kept her from doing so, as if the very notion seemed appalling to even consider.

Inhaling the winds wafting towards her again she smiles as she smells the air, the sweet aroma of women ready for a lover tickle her senses; ah the new generations to come she inwardly thinks, the energy with it almost intoxicating. Eness was happy to be away from home during such a time, knowing her dear parents had been plotting to send her to the first noisy male to sniff her way, but her friend, her sweet Sakhmet had not let it happen. The outcast arabian had been the only one to understand Eness and her wandering soul, someone who was true and so purehearted it made seeing past the blood mark easy.

Looking to the shadows of trees to her right Eness can’t help but to grin in the direction and prance on her nimble graceful legs. “I know you are there dear,” her voice is smooth and warm, a slip of the tongue with the term of endearment that was sure to pull Sakhmet from her look out post. Eness had woken long before the other, and would have been more than happy to stay pressed against the safety of her friend’s side if not for all the strange new smells wafting their way that made her both wary and excited.