Atropa Belladonna

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mare | 15.0hhs | flaxen chestnut | of the lost island wilds

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Pulling herself free of the ocean, a dark clad chestnut mare blinked her amber eyes and scanned the territory she found herself. A few month old filly was at her side and it had made the swim worth it. The flaxen chestnut mare named Atropa Belladonna softly nuzzled her pale daughter and pulled in her scent. The sire of this foal lived here, that much she had figured out after watching him leave during a hot fall night, but she had never followed him really to where he lived.


Turning her head away from her flower child, Atropa flicked her ears forward before she moved slowly into the territory. She had not really come here to find the sire of her foal, but she needed a home. She had figured Luthien was a good place for it was a forest clad area in much of it, which gave her dark coat an easier place to blend in.She needed a home and with a newer foal, she really hoped she could find just that.


Huffing a breath, Atropa led her daughter farther into the Prairie where she thought she heard voices. The mare was unhinged at best, her time dabbling with her namesake having pulled a few screws loose from her head. The plant of her name had once been used in tea, to take out those that the murderer had wanted dead. It had been hard to trace once upon a time, but nowadays it was easier to figure out with how much knowledge had been done with the plant. Atropa herself knew of its properties, but she did like the dangerous game of testing how good her immune system was against it.


Shaking her head, the common sized mare stopped once she was far enough into the home. Her tail flicked against her hocks and her head lifted to send a call into the area. She wanted to speak with someone, but she was not ready for the pale face of the Prairie prince either. He did not need to know just yet that her daughter was his blood and he had a claim to her. Rhododendron was still far too small for that as of yet.