anchors drag me down

Pixie Frost · 12-21-2010, 01:01 AM

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Thank god for winter break, I can finally get stuff done XD
300+

An old scratchy cloak wasn’t going to keep Pixie completely warm in the winter. Nor was Magic’s newly grown double coat going to keep the horse completely warm either. The wolfess, at least, had the manor to shelter in if the weather got particularly chilly; Magic had nothing. The cottage out in the woods where he had been spending most of his time was not entirely in the best of shape, and he couldn’t even go into it, as the door was not wide enough for a stallion his size to fit in.

This predicament had dawned on the young fae as she returned from her hunting trip near the shores of Lenape River, a pitifully thin rabbit slung over her shoulder. Her hardy steed carried her through the field where scraps of old metal from some destroyed machine left by humans long ago lay haphazardly like a sort of mechanical graveyard. And seated on one of these broken pieces of aircraft, she spotted a fellow Crimson Dreamer, one she had first seen about a month ago.

She approached the wolf slowly—by now she had learned that not all wolves were as familiar with horses as she was, let alone riding them—and slid the hood of her cloak off her head. “Hey, I think we’ve met before. You were at the birthing not too long ago.” It couldn’t even really be called meeting each other, now that she thought about it; both of them had been too occupied with the momentous event to introduce themselves. But he seemed like a nice enough guy; at the moment, judging from how his eyes were closed, he seemed to be brooding about something, but not so much that Pixie thought there would be harm to simply saying “hello.” She at least wanted to find out the wolf’s name.

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