Shotgun (open)

[nala]

"I ain't fit to be no mother,
I ain't fit to be no wife yea."

Nakita.

    The winter seemed to drag on and on this season. Even in the desert territory, always sticky with the warm breath of the Dark Lord, held an eerie chill that clung to the hearts of the entire family. Or at least this is what Nakita liked to think was happening. The mare, with a heart nearly as black as her coat, was constantly isolated in her unhappiness. Before the others, before her children, the mare had been a promising creature, full of life and a healthy love of adventure. Before she'd been broken, the mare had been healthy. Now though, with her ribs poking out and her beauty one more born of pain then joy, she was the epitome of mentally ill.

    The mare watched over the mass expanse of dunes, as she did so many days now, searching for what she'd lost. The mare felt it now, closer then it had been in years. Her sanity was tempting her. Like sugar she could taste it on her tongue and she wanted it. Her eyes flickered momentarily at the thought. She was so close. She wouldn't stop now. 





ooc: so um. trying to pull her out of her illness. whatever it is

[skibbereenfarms]

     There was a burning in her chest, and it came as somewhat of a surprise that the heat failed to sear through her skin. But perhaps, it was just a combination of things; the hunger that never left her stomach, the need to continue pushing forward, and most importantly, her very soul. There was an exhausted look upon her, as though the desert had not been particularly kind to her this season. It would be wise to not point such things out, however, as her apparent tiredness had managed to make her more ornery than usual. But who knows, with the amount of exhaustion plaguing her at the moment, the energy to bicker might not even be there anymore. Still, Abaddon continued running, crossing the desert in a hasty attempt to get somewhere. Where, she could not say. She didn't really know, to be honest. Or, she didn't really care. The fact of the matter was, she would continue moving until something, or someone crossed her path.

     Fortunately, the mare would soon discover darkness at the end of her road--she considered it to be something of a mirage at first, but Abaddon was not one for believing that the dearly departed could speak. She couldn't believe something like that. But it quickly became apparent that what she saw was living and breathing, and at last, the fire in her lungs could be extinguished. Heaving and huffing, her gaze locked on the figure she saw. Though she wasn't immediately impressed, she was what one might call curious. Nostrils flaring, Abaddon found herself drifting closer and closer to this creature. Though ever-judgmental, she seemed to be too exhausted to be so today, and thus did not give a glare, but rather a tired look.

notes. aaand boom goes the dynamite.
words. 292
muse. Django Unchained Soundtrack.

[nala]

"I ain't fit to be no mother,
I ain't fit to be no wife yea."

Nakita.

Nakita's eyes caught the stranger quickly in her search for answers. She was light, and for a moment, Nakita's heart fluttered with the thought of the appointed queen of her lands. Regina hadn't earned the first wife's respect just yet, then again she hadn't really tried all too hard anyway. A snort escaped the dancing beauties nostrils as she gauged the situation. Her ribs slid across her black coat as she moved, the weight loss that came with grief showing all too clearly in the weak mare's stance. But this wasn't Regina after all, was it?

Ear's pricked forward at the approach, and Nakita planted her hooves in the sand. "Who are you?" The mare demanded exasperatedly. "I am Nakita, first wife of the desert." After her words were released, and released in much of a flurry, she bit her tongue. The mare was in no place for a fight, and she certainly didn't know how this mare would react. "And you?" She quickly adds with less force. 




ooc: gah -wipes of rust- also muse from the excellent mix of royals and Paper Planes.