Common

(Backdating this thread to late autumn, for plot reasons <3)

Dawn's golden light stretches across the broad expanse of the Crossing. It stripes through the trees, glittering on the frosted late autumn meadows, laced with the rustle of dry leaves and the muted tenor of birdsong. The Islands at large seem to be sleeping, still, creatures equine and otherwise nestled away in their dens and burrows and hidey-holes, and the peace of the morning remains preserved -

Except, of course, for Valentina, who, despite her natural inclination to sleep at least until midday, is already up and moving, cutting a path through the long tawny grasses with unusual urgency.

She doesn't seem to be going anywhere in particular; she's just going, and as long as she is as far away from where she came from as possible, she doesn't care where that is. The sound of running water turns her white ears, and she alters her course towards it. When she reaches the source - a small creek - she stops, bending her muzzle down to take a long, smooth sip. Tina lifts her head as soon as she's done, wide brown eyes peeking over her shoulder, searching for something. For someone.

Nothing. The dark mare sighs, relief loosening the tension in her posture. She'd lost him, thank god.

It wasn't that she disliked the man she'd spent the night with, even as she struggled to remember his name, and she wasn't afraid of him, but he was just one in a long line of bedfellows, and she didn't want him getting any funny ideas. She'd always been kind of boy-crazy, but something about this autumn had lit a fire within her that could not be quenched no matter how many times she tried to snuff it out. She was alone for the first time in what felt like years, and she had nobody to check her - and for a woman driven by impulse, the need for attention, and a temper that shifted as often as the desert sands, she had kept herself very busy, indeed.

Even now, she can feel it, the prickling under her skin that gives her an itch only a stallion could scratch. Her ears fall back, her head tossing at the invisible irritation, and she begins to move again, kicking a rock petulantly into the water's edge as she goes. She's only walking at first, having convinced herself that she is far enough from what's-his-name to snatch up a few mouthfuls of grass as she goes, but then something crashes behind her - a tree, a branch, something - and she freezes, throwing a glance over her withers. The sun is in her eyes, obscuring her view, but something is cutting through the grass towards her, getting closer and closer.

"Mierda," she swears under her breath, suddenly realizing how far south she's gone.

She should have stayed on the goddamn mainland.