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Description

Leader: Viren

Tracker

Art/Lit Features: Fullbody (3R)+Background (2R)+500Words (2.5R): 7.5R

Event Response: Yes - Cave, Cave Paintings
RNG Rolls: Yes

Healing: No (bless)

===========

Good fortune, even fleeting seemed to have found the cowering mare. The avalanche, the cacophonous and frightful lightning passing over and leaving the roan unharmed. She lingered where she sheltered for some minutes before tentatively raising an ear, then her head to look over the downed trees and rocks. The snow spread about her shelter, leaving her unscathed, but it was deep all around.

Shakily she stood and went to carefully, slowly, and quietly tread a path through the thick, upturned snow, until her hoof found purchase on solid ground. Here the snow was what she was accustomed to, a mere few inches and a soft, comforting crunch of ice under each step, instead of eerie silence.

The forest seemed to have survived, standing tall and stark against the now gray sky, a few broken branches or tipping trees at the edges of the tree line, but inside its protection, the ground where not blanketed in cold ice was a springy bedding of pine needles and plant matter. Her steps soon turned to head into the forest, ears ever alert to the slightest sounds.

The mountains ever present despite her distance from them, she on occasion would pause to assess her surroundings, thoughts silent for the time as she merely observed the stillness of the world around her. The quiet. The new places. She heaved out a relieved sigh, before catching sight of short hills rising in the distance. The trees thinned, and the ground instead grew lively lichens and sparser, leaf-fallen bushes. One hill had a dark spot on it, that when the mare approached closer, showed itself to be a shallow, protected hollow of a cave.

Seeking a brief rest free of threats, she made her way up the small slope to the entrance, her gaze moving first into the dimness to search for dangers, and then to observe the walls around as she trotted inside. There were paintings everywhere. Made by the hands of the two-legs, one section near the entrance drawing her in. Two horses, one smaller, and likely a foal frolicking along the walls.

Maybe this journey would find her with a foal of her own. She’d probably call them Stinky. Most babies were. Or at least she thought. Finding a suitor out in the wilds seemed a far-fetched idea at the moment, and lady fortune was a fickle one. Still. She found herself smiling, good things were still bound to happen, despite the bad times.

Sure enough, when she went to investigate a bit further in the cave, she found an old stash of human things, a worn basket, which when upturned by her snout, turned out a small clove of garlic and a sprig of mint tied together by a long, red braided string. Mother said these things were useful in life, so Viren gathered the string in her mouth, flipping her head back to toss the small piece over a shoulder, the herbs still attached. A useful thing, to which she decided to keep for future acquisition.

Her thoughts wandered to the artifacts of the two-legs. Their hands a valuable and fascinating adaption, where she had hooves, they possessed deft fingers, capable of crafting a multitude of possessions beyond what a horse could.

She smiled a bit, at a passing thought of finding and raising a two-leg’s young, or perhaps befriending a juvenile or unthreatening adult. Probably better than a danger tooth, and not as fast as an angry cat trying to rescue its already rescued baby. Darn ungrateful thing.

[588 words]
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Description

Leader: Viren

Tracker

Art/Lit Features: Fullbody (3R)+Background (2R)+500Words (2.5R): 7.5R

Event Response: Yes - Cave, Cave Paintings
RNG Rolls: Yes

Healing: No (bless)

===========

Good fortune, even fleeting seemed to have found the cowering mare. The avalanche, the cacophonous and frightful lightning passing over and leaving the roan unharmed. She lingered where she sheltered for some minutes before tentatively raising an ear, then her head to look over the downed trees and rocks. The snow spread about her shelter, leaving her unscathed, but it was deep all around.

Shakily she stood and went to carefully, slowly, and quietly tread a path through the thick, upturned snow, until her hoof found purchase on solid ground. Here the snow was what she was accustomed to, a mere few inches and a soft, comforting crunch of ice under each step, instead of eerie silence.

The forest seemed to have survived, standing tall and stark against the now gray sky, a few broken branches or tipping trees at the edges of the tree line, but inside its protection, the ground where not blanketed in cold ice was a springy bedding of pine needles and plant matter. Her steps soon turned to head into the forest, ears ever alert to the slightest sounds.

The mountains ever present despite her distance from them, she on occasion would pause to assess her surroundings, thoughts silent for the time as she merely observed the stillness of the world around her. The quiet. The new places. She heaved out a relieved sigh, before catching sight of short hills rising in the distance. The trees thinned, and the ground instead grew lively lichens and sparser, leaf-fallen bushes. One hill had a dark spot on it, that when the mare approached closer, showed itself to be a shallow, protected hollow of a cave.

Seeking a brief rest free of threats, she made her way up the small slope to the entrance, her gaze moving first into the dimness to search for dangers, and then to observe the walls around as she trotted inside. There were paintings everywhere. Made by the hands of the two-legs, one section near the entrance drawing her in. Two horses, one smaller, and likely a foal frolicking along the walls.

Maybe this journey would find her with a foal of her own. She’d probably call them Stinky. Most babies were. Or at least she thought. Finding a suitor out in the wilds seemed a far-fetched idea at the moment, and lady fortune was a fickle one. Still. She found herself smiling, good things were still bound to happen, despite the bad times.

Sure enough, when she went to investigate a bit further in the cave, she found an old stash of human things, a worn basket, which when upturned by her snout, turned out a small clove of garlic and a sprig of mint tied together by a long, red braided string. Mother said these things were useful in life, so Viren gathered the string in her mouth, flipping her head back to toss the small piece over a shoulder, the herbs still attached. A useful thing, to which she decided to keep for future acquisition.

Her thoughts wandered to the artifacts of the two-legs. Their hands a valuable and fascinating adaption, where she had hooves, they possessed deft fingers, capable of crafting a multitude of possessions beyond what a horse could.

She smiled a bit, at a passing thought of finding and raising a two-leg’s young, or perhaps befriending a juvenile or unthreatening adult. Probably better than a danger tooth, and not as fast as an angry cat trying to rescue its already rescued baby. Darn ungrateful thing.

[588 words]
-----

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