Wicked. {open}

[azzy]

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[atrb=background,http://imageshack.us/a/img593/8378/tempmiddle.jpg] The night air was sweet, clean. In the past hour the rain had finally stopped and the animals that were holded up out of the recent downpour were just starting to come out again. Far off in the distance a wolf howled and it's pack brothers rejoiced with it celebrating the start of a hunt. The night air was crisp and the clouds had left with the storm leaving the sky clear and allowed the moon to shine down on its children. Off in the far distance a slow moving equine walked, rolling gaits bringing the mare closer and closer to something though she didn't know what. Upon closer inspection one could see how her coat was soaked. She hadn't bothered taking shelter from the storm, nor did she bother shaking off either. This mare was hairy even though most of her winter coat had left her and her cool summer coat graced her thick, drafty frame. Her mane still dripped as did the hairs off of her stomach. She gave a slight shake of her head, clearing her forelock out of her eyes, her dark malicious eyes. Stopping for a moment she threw her head back, screaming into the night in response to the wolves howls. She dared them to come for her, dared them to hunt her. They would provide her with entertainment after a long and boring lull that had been her travels. Slowly her reputation spread through the land and anyone who saw her hulking form in the distance knew to either brace themselves for a riot or take off and save their own skin. All of them ran, robbing her of the pleasure of hearing their screams. The mare stood close to 16.3 hands and her butt was still high, promising the female that she still had more growing to do. This placed her relatively young, no more or less then four years of age. For one so young the mare was twisted in her ways and no one would be able to change her. The mare was more then content with the way she was, she knew where she found her happiness and it wasn't in laughter and games. The mares coat was dark mahogany and she wasn't short of white markings. All four legs had socks that then turned into white flakes of hair on her haunches and shoulders. She had the white splashes of colour on her stomach as well. Her face would have been considered pretty if it wasn't held in a twisted glare towards the woods where the wolves howls first came from. A white white blaze covered her whole face and ended in a beard under her chin. Long black forelock covered half of her face and caused the mare to constantly shake her head. Another scream came from her lungs as she taunted the wolves again. Her answer came unanswered as she continued to travel forward towards a forest, every step she took brought her deeper into the land of Beless and towards others that might at least share her twisted mind. A word to the wise, this mare wasn't one to be trifled with for she had no version of right or wrong and held no qualms with hurting another equine. ---------------------------------------------------------- word count: 543 reserved for: open

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