is it (( safe ))

[rain]

niveous

the sun was low, from rising or setting, she didn't know. she couldn't remember much of her past. where she came from, or even where she was. never the less, she wasn't completely sure she cared. she was too weak from whatever had happened in the past days of her short life.
it was her sparkling personality that kept her weak body from falling to pieces. her coat now looked far from the glistening white it used to be, it was dipped with dirt. her legs showed scars and wounds, with clayed blood. she was far from whatever beauty she used to have.
she scanned the horizon.
will these wounds ever heal? will my coat ever radiate the pureness of white?
she didn't know the answer to these questions. but, she was almost positive the answer would be something she would rather not know.
she wondered if anyone would even take a second glance at her, her, imperfectness. that thought sent a chill threw her spine, and her knees shook once again, not from weakness this time, but, from a fear that she didn't want to encounter.
had anyone, or anything other than her survived.
she knew she was strong. . .

but was she that strong?

[JESS!CA]

D E C E M B E R

Harks pricked forward, alert, December approached the moonwash'd elle. The deep azure held the sun in position, its rays beating down on the steed's earthen coat. The wind blew in from the east. He advanced slowly, his daggers sinking into the sandy soil, leaving his mark. The female's bodice was stricken with dirt and blood, a gruesome indicator of her former life. He felt an overwhelming rush of pity, he looked at the mare sympathetically. Greetings, fair maiden. May i introduce myself? I'm December.. Leader of the Celestial Beach herd. What is thy calling?

It was approaching mid day, and the flies were getting increasingly annoying. December flicked his pendulum to drive away the biting menaces. Instead, they turned their attention to the femme's open wounds, and swarmed her instead. She twitched, trying to get them off, but to no avail. The stag looked into her eyes, and saw pain, betrayal and hurt. His heart dropped. Poor thing, whatever happened to her? There wasn't much verbal communication happening, but he felt that words couldn't describe her pain, her loss. He sensed her insecurity, and he took another look at her wounds. What were they.. Battle wounds? He wasn't sure, and didn't want to invade her privacy by asking. Instead, he pitied in silence, but he was still wondering.

The weather had dramatically changed in a short space of time, and now dark clouds were rolling in from the west, from the dark abode, creating a blanket over the heavens that the great ball of fire in the sky couldn't penetrate. Icy daggers began to fall from above, with each one that hit his mahogany canvas stung like a bee, and then continued, rolling down his physique, gathering on his barrel, then dripping away into the earth below.



thought
speech
description

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[rain]

niveous

hearing the deep tone of the bay stallion, she respected his presence, rising, tipping her head, ears pricked forward. She decided it would be better to rise and find a safer place than to lay where she was throughout the storm. She tried to make the self-pity questions leave her mind while the stallion spoke.
Niveous. Her muscled tensed as she spoke.
speak.
she could sense him over scanning her wounds, as the flies nested quickly as the icy drops started falling quicker. stomping her hoove, she didn't care if it was a cut to the stallion, they felt like needles cutting deeper into the wound, and the ice only made it sting worse as fresh blood started creeping down her legs.
I have no idea.
that was the dead silence breaker. it had been a few minutes of her scanning the stallions build.
the wounds, i mean. I can not remember what happened, what created these.
she was hoping this would help, but feared it only made her seem more, neglectful.
the once, clear sky had quickly turned into a black blanket of clouds that roared in anger as it sent down bombs of icy balls. she scanned deeply into the stallions yellowish eyes, never remembering having this much respect for anything so quickly, he was so easy to trust.
Trust was something she was always afraid of, though now, she couldn't think of why. Her mind just gave her a black sheet of information when she thought any further than the few past hours.
is it because i've convinced myself not to allow the memories, or is something just wrong?
She didn't know if that answer would ever come, though, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Fear.