Snapdragon

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Mare | 15.2hhs | Dunskin Pintaloosa | Crown of Paradise

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VOICE OF THE PEOPLE.

Off lost in her own territory, Snapdragon slowly weaves through the foliage in her trails. Her ears swiveled at the singing birds in the distance, the hush of the ocean pulling at the beach, and the gentle brushing of leaves up above her. The pale mares body was just meandering through the place of her home, nothing really capturing her attention or really needing her this sunny summer day. She was free to roam, her mind lost on the battles she had lost this season and the loss of her own members. Launch had been stolen by Garmr and Eeva by Fell. She hadn't won against the Lagoon brute for one of their own either, which hit a bit harder than she would ever let on to the others in this lovely home.


With her mind being tugged around, Snapdragon did not notice someone on the edge between her and the Harbor. She should have scented them with where she was on her own trails, but she was not paying attention to anything around her. It was the call of a masculine voice that had her jolting out of her mental jail cell and focussing on the current state of her being. Her mane was standing up in places, the long strands full of dirt and grime from rubbing against trees and other things to make her home smell guarded. Sap lined her right side from shoulder to hip with her rubbing, causing her body’s short hairs to look matted and filthy.


Knowing she looked like a doll tossed outside to drown in the rain by a child that had been called to dinner, the mare cringed and eyed the foliage above her. If she had been smart, she would have maken sure she looked decent. Instead, she gave a sigh and moved over the ground towards the one that called. Her blue eyes gleamed faintly with the curiosity she always felt, but there was happiness in their depths now. She was no longer lost to the mental game of tug o’ war and she was thankful.


Coming up on the stallion, Snapdragon eyed him before the scent of the Harbor fully filled her lungs. Twisting her ears, the mare narrowed her eyes for a moment before stopping a bit back on her trail and eyeing the fallen tree. “Greetings Sir. I hope you did not call to say you tipped it over on your own?” She threw out a little joke, a smile on her face. She might be rough around the edges most of the time, but for now she would be kind and do her best to not look like a rotten apple.