i've been called worse by better.
With a gasp, the mare wrested her head upward and out of a dead sleep. The sudden rasp of air burned in the back of her throat. The memory of it still burned softly some hours later when the smoky black female begrudgingly decided to move on when any more sleep deftly evaded her. Unfortunately, it was nothing new: the lack of sleep, the nightmares. They had started after Santana had left the home of her father, after she'd found him..
She shook her head softly to herself and set her jaw. It had been risky enough to sleep alone in an unfamiliar land. Yes: risky, but necessary. She was just grateful to have found the alcove nestled among the brush. The ground beneath her crunched as the mare left the little alcove of trees she had found and headed through the woods. Her ears twisted this way and that as she trekked through the morning dark, listening carefully to the world around her. It wasn't entirely long before the smoky black stepped from the wood and into the open.
For a moment, the mare hesitated at the sight of another being on the crest ahead of her. Not one to be intimidated or daunted, she simply moved forward. Unsure as to why, but Santana found herself strolling toward and stopping near to his side. A stallion, yes, and a painted one at that. It was too dark for her to see his coat's true colors in the dawnlight. She turned her gaze away to then sweep her eyes over the land before her. It was a vast expanse of snow-gilded grassland, not unlike some places back home. The locals called this land "the Meadow," or so she had been told. The smoky black mare assumed it would be overrun with wildflowers once the temperatures rose.
With a skyward glance, she noticed that the sky was still mostly dark. Irritation folded her ears back when she realized just how early she had woken. Santana didn't get to focus on the feeling for long. "Didn't want to spend the sunrise alone?" The words left his maw in a soft manner. Not nervous, but gentle and steady. In her periphery, it looked as if he had turned to look at her. She ignored the feel of eyes on her for a moment.
The mare exhaled through her nostrils thoughtfully, feeling the twist of grief in her gut. Her father had been the constant in her life after her mother disappeared, and, twisted as he may have been to others, Santana had loved him dearly. She was truly alone now, having no idea what had happened to her siblings. Before everything happened, she had been more of a "lone wolf," but now? Was that really what she wanted? "No," the dark mare mused aloud. A sad reminiscence toyed with the corners of her lips before smoothing quickly into a more neutral expression.
"No, I suppose not."
-santana