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Enda's eyes narrowed as she looked across the starlit grass and rocks of the Needle. She's got beef with the Powers-That-Be messing with her and the Family. The last vestiges of vanity she had fell off onto frosted ground that day after the fog burned up in the morning sun. The warm earthen gaze of her daughter changed to a brilliant red. Other changes and the rumors of such were flying so fast and hard across the whole of Glenmore that the valley echoed with all that had taken place on the night of fog.

She had saved her mane that had fallen. Hair so long and fine was hard to come by and would make lovely trinkets. Now the breeze barely pushed against her stiff crest. The sensation alien to Enda. As she stood on the hill reminiscing there was a harsh croak from the air to her right and Hassle chased off one of his daughters as Havoc landed gracefully on Enda's rump. Tonight she wasn't alone, and really she wasn't ever alone anymore, even when Dolly wandered, or the children slept or began to explore and get into their own adventures. Around her magpies flocked, with the occasional curious crow from Dolly's flock. Under her feet, there were the active sounds of scurrying creatures, and the rats she raised hunted in the grass for stones or bones or useful plants. Winter was almost upon then, and would give Enda plenty of time to contemplate her current situation. Until then, there was gathering to be done. They had to prepare for the cold and the snow that promised to fall. The Needle was no protected woodland full of stores of easy food and cultivated plots.

The birds called to each other and to her, alerting her to what looked to be something interesting in the lee of the hill they were on. Hassle croaked in a peculiar way and the doe was able to recognize it as meaning something was dead near by. So there might be bones to gather, Enda acknowledged her pets with a wicker, she’d follow them down the hill.

Before leaving she turned to the bright night sky, sliver of a moon behind her not casting enough light yet to chase away the stars. Enda raised her head and snorted. With a lifted lip and narrowed eyes she stomped a hoof and flicked her tail. The tip of her horn, painted a sticky black with poison. A quiet challenge to whatever meddlesome god could hear it. She'd like to take a piece off someone's hide....

Featuring Enda

winter, 774 of The New Age

The Needle (The Trap ), Glenmore

Previously |Next

Description

Enda's eyes narrowed as she looked across the starlit grass and rocks of the Needle. She's got beef with the Powers-That-Be messing with her and the Family. The last vestiges of vanity she had fell off onto frosted ground that day after the fog burned up in the morning sun. The warm earthen gaze of her daughter changed to a brilliant red. Other changes and the rumors of such were flying so fast and hard across the whole of Glenmore that the valley echoed with all that had taken place on the night of fog.

She had saved her mane that had fallen. Hair so long and fine was hard to come by and would make lovely trinkets. Now the breeze barely pushed against her stiff crest. The sensation alien to Enda. As she stood on the hill reminiscing there was a harsh croak from the air to her right and Hassle chased off one of his daughters as Havoc landed gracefully on Enda's rump. Tonight she wasn't alone, and really she wasn't ever alone anymore, even when Dolly wandered, or the children slept or began to explore and get into their own adventures. Around her magpies flocked, with the occasional curious crow from Dolly's flock. Under her feet, there were the active sounds of scurrying creatures, and the rats she raised hunted in the grass for stones or bones or useful plants. Winter was almost upon then, and would give Enda plenty of time to contemplate her current situation. Until then, there was gathering to be done. They had to prepare for the cold and the snow that promised to fall. The Needle was no protected woodland full of stores of easy food and cultivated plots.

The birds called to each other and to her, alerting her to what looked to be something interesting in the lee of the hill they were on. Hassle croaked in a peculiar way and the doe was able to recognize it as meaning something was dead near by. So there might be bones to gather, Enda acknowledged her pets with a wicker, she’d follow them down the hill.

Before leaving she turned to the bright night sky, sliver of a moon behind her not casting enough light yet to chase away the stars. Enda raised her head and snorted. With a lifted lip and narrowed eyes she stomped a hoof and flicked her tail. The tip of her horn, painted a sticky black with poison. A quiet challenge to whatever meddlesome god could hear it. She'd like to take a piece off someone's hide....

Featuring Enda

winter, 774 of The New Age

The Needle (The Trap ), Glenmore

Previously |Next