Dances with Horses, not Wolves

*Obsidian* · 02-11-2014, 12:20 AM

Obsidian

The sun warmed Obsidians sleek black hide as she lipped up mouthfuls of lush grass, chewing energetically, temples pulsing with every crunch of roughage. With the warmer months, her shaggy winter coat had sloughed off, leaving a black blizzard in her wake any time she shook herself over the course of two months, and hairy black patches in her favored rolling spots. Her mane had some new clumps in it, and at some point, she was sure, it would begin to gather burrs. Her tail flicked nonchalantly over her scarred haunches, chasing off flies that viewed her as a buffet meal.

A long, easy snort sighed through her nostrils, before the next intake of breath brought a scent to her nose. It was a Valhallan wolf. Her head lifted, turning to cast a gaze toward the scent, ears pricked. A young wolf that looked nearly a year old was approaching, and Obsidian approached to meet her halfway. ?Hail, Valhallan. I believe I saw you at the meeting just after the move to the Island? Odette, I believe?? Her voice was friendly, soft spoken words dancing on the air. She ran her gaze over the young wolf. She recalled Surreal calling out to this one, calling her Odette. Horses had a grand memory, able to remember faces even after a few years apart.

?I?m Obsidian. I?m a friend of Valhalla.? She had fought in the war for these wolves, something she doubted any other horse would do. Well, any other horse she knew. She hadn?t seen another of her kind in years. The elk and deer were good company, and all, but they wouldn?t bring offspring.

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me