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This is a private RP between myself and Whispering Pine Stab. Unless you are one of us, do not post here, please and thank you. |
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The herd had lived in peace. The plains gave them everything they needed: food, water. But the open land couldn't hide them from the storm. It was the fiercest one the horses had experienced yet. The rain felt like bricks falling on them, the wind relentless. Thunder roared like a wild beast and the lightning came right after, flashing menacingly. What the herd never expected, never faced before, was the tornado. It was as if a raging bull had torn through the fields, leaving nothing but destruction in its path. In a mad dash to find shelter, the herd splits up. At least two of the groups have plenty of company to keep them comfort. Except for two horses, who never stopped running, and found themselves in unfamiliar territory. They are alone together. |
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─── ༻⋅☼⋅༺ ─── "Shadows of the Summer" Aka June. Pronounced like joohn | The name means "young" or "vitality". Gender Mare Age Five years old. Breed Other than some very clear Appaloosa influence, she's pretty much the horse equivalent of a mutt. A mixed bloodline that's far from pure. Appearance In simple terms, she's a palomino with blanket patterning. She is a rich gold, like a newly-minted coin. Her mane and tail are pale, cream in color, with a thin and shaggy texture. Her coat is sparse, short in length, very fine and smooth. Even when she grows a winter coat, she doesn't fare too well in the winter. Time for markings! As for her legs, she has a half-stocking on the right hind one. Her left hindleg has a sock, and so does her right foreleg. The left foreleg has no white markings. She has no white markings on her face, either. Height-wise, she's average, standing at 15 hands on the dot. She has a strong, yet compact build. Pretty sturdy, but not so much that her agility is compromised. She has long, sloping shoulders. The head is straight and lean, clean-cut but not impressively regal. She has large, brown eyes that are very expressive. Personality June is a slightly hyper-active and skittery horse, to the point where she's almost awkward, but not quite. She could be a lot worse, and in all honestly, could be summed up into two words: clumsy goofball. That's right, she's devoid of grace but makes up in her plentiful spirit and heart. She's more socially aware than what you may think at first glance.
June is a bit like a mule in the sense of self-preservation getting mistaken for stubbornness. She's not mean, but don't mistake that for her being a pushover, because she absolutely won't do something just because you tell her. Especially if she knows that she'll get harmed in the process. Strengths High physical stamina Excellent sense of hearing Social intelligence Persistance Weaknesses Low physical speed Importunate Excitable Poor focus Fears/Phobias Water (not drinking water, of course, but having to walk through it) Loud noises Isolation |
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Name: MilkyWay Galaxy for short Milky Breed: Knubstrupper Gender: Mare Age: 3 Appearance: Looks like the Milky Way with the white speckles resembling the stars. She looks like a Palomino Snowflake Appaloosa. Personality: Sweet, kind, energetic, playful, determined, and most of all loyal to the herd. Discipline/Role: One of the two horses that got separated in a terrible storm that broke out in their valley leaving the valley a torn up mess, no longer able to house the life it once was able to. Likes/Dislikes: Likes: Company, freedom, and sweet tender grass. Dislikes: Dead grass, being alone, trapped in a pasture/barn, and most of all bears. Ability’s: She is really fast, and loves the feeling of wind flowing through her mane. She is really good at traveling long distances, and she is really good at navigation. Backstory/Motivation: Had a loving mother that was so sweet and her name was Wisp but when Milky was only 2 & a half years old her mother was sadly killed by a bear and she had to fend for herself from then on. When she reached the valley that is now rocks and dirt no life for miles, she was greeted by the herd's lead mare who welcomed her into the herd as one of them. This gave Milky hope until the storm came when she was about 3 years old that separated her from the herd leaving her at this point being 1 in only 2 that got separated from the herd. |
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The sun drew up June's head. Her eyes opened, her sight foggy. All she could see around her, were tall, uneven shapes ascending into the sky. She blinked to clear her vision. They were trees. They surrounded the clearing and loomed overhead. The image was foreign, and a little suffocating. June felt heavy, front legs folded underneath her, the back ones curled at her side. Usually, she slept standing up, but at the end of the previous day, she simply collapsed. That's when it came to her, like an electric shock. The sun! It was out! She escaped the storm! June pulled herself up, her limbs going through the motions but her mind was in a haze - she amused herself by thinking that, even though the storm had passed, a few of its clouds hung over her head. That was the first coherent thought she had that morning. She took a step forward, assessing her surroundings. The grass beneath was soggy, either from dew or rain, she couldn't tell. The ground ahead sloped away into uneven terrain, swarming with bushes and undergrowth. June tested the air. It was fresh, full of earth, somewhat bogged down by humidity. The air always smelled like that after a storm. She recalled her father, bless his heart, had told her long ago that the scent was called petrichor. It was one of those things she tucked away in the back of her mind, even though it did not prove much use to her. It then clicked in her mind that this wasn't her home, and the herd was nowhere to be seen. She whirled around, trying to make sense of this odd place. June tried to remember the way back to the plains, it kept coming up blank. When you're fleeing for your life, there's not exactly time to stop and map out your route. All she could picture was running, endlessly, getting quickly overtaken by mud. Heading for the hills, into the deep, forested ridges that were narrow and long. And then she eventually fell asleep. That was all she could remember from that day. Other than the storm descending and the clouds eventually rotating into a funnel, the one that stomped all over the herd's happy little haven. June let out a gusty snort, trembling under the weight of it all. Her movement caused stinging in her right shoulder. She'd felt it when she stood up, but chose to ignore it. She craned her neck to get a look. There was a small wound that had broken the skin, right in the middle. She'd gotten it when the blustery winds from the tornado had launched riverside pebbles through the air, one of them striking her. June would manage. That was the least of her concerns. She swung around, eyes landing on the bundle of legs stretched out on the grass. Asleep, like June was not too long ago. Milky. She had managed to escape with June. At least neither of them were completely alone. That had to count for something. Or not much at all; Milky was another life on the line, along with June's. But June wouldn't let herself think that way. If she truly believed they couldn't make it out here, then that would happen, either through inadvertant self-sabotage or through no fault of their own. June walked over to the heap of horse. She raised a hoof and gently prodded Milky's flank. "Get up." |
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Milky’s legs felt like lead, and her breath hitched in her throat as she struggled against the heavy pull of exhaustion. The memory of the "raging bull" tornado was still etched into her mind—the roar of the wind and the terrifying sting of debris. She blinked, her long lashes sweeping against her dappled cheeks. As her vision cleared, she saw the white speckles on her own coat, usually shining like the stars she was named for, now matted with mud and forest grit. "June?" she whinnied softly, her voice cracking. She pushed herself upward, her muscles protesting with every inch. She thought of her mother, Wisp, and the strength it took to survive after the bears took her. She couldn't give up now; not when she finally had a herd sister by her side. "I'm up," Milky panted, finally finding her footing. She shook her coat, a cloud of dust and dried pine needles flying off her Palomino coat. She looked around at the suffocating trees, her heart hammering against her ribs. "The valley... it's gone, isn't it? I can't smell the open grass anymore. Just... damp wood and shadows." She took a shaky step toward June, her natural instinct for navigation flickering to life despite her fear. She tilted her head, ears swiveling to catch the sounds of the deep woods. "We can't stay here," Milky whispered, her sweet nature momentarily overshadowed by a spark of her characteristic determination. "The trees... they hide things. We need to find the wind again. If we can find the wind, I can find the way back." She nudged June’s uninjured shoulder gently with her muzzle, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you hurt bad? I saw the rocks flying... I thought the sky was falling on us." |
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June hacked out a cough as the dust from Milky's coat billowed into her nostrils. She blinked the stinging sensation away. "The valley..." her voice was hoarse from exhaustion, sorrow, or a bit of both. "I believe there's nothing left of it." She didn't want to believe it. The valley had been alive for centuries, or, June had always assumed it had been. It could withstand season after season. Then, just like that, a twister could wipe everything out? She couldn't wrap her head around that. Then, Milky had said those five words that caused a ripple of fear to snake down June's spine, and made her ears stand up stiff and straight. Unnaturally so, like a couple of upright sticks. The trees... they hide things. All June could hear was the trill call of a few birds, which wavered through the slightly humid air. They were the lucky ones, the birds. June was a little bitter. They could hunker down amongst bushes and logs during storms and they didn't have to leave their homes. June snapped back to the present, wobbling on her hooves as Milky approached and bumped her muzzle against her shoulder. "I'm fine, just a scratch. It'll heal up on its own." "Yes... it was like the sky was falling, like the world was ending..." her mind raced. "The wind, you say? We have to find the wind? Then we must go somewhere open, where the wind can come to us." She swung her head around, scanning the area, fixing her gaze on the north. "The land slopes up that way. Perhaps if we go high enough, the trees will thin out." June wasn't sure how much her logic was rooted in truth, but she was grasping for any sense of hope. |
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Milky watched June’s ears—usually so animated and expressive—standing stiff and rigid like dry twigs. The fear radiating off the older mare was palpable, mixing with the heavy scent of wet pine and the metallic tang of blood from June's shoulder. When June spoke of the valley being gone, Milky felt a hollow ache in her chest. The valley had been her sanctuary after the bears took Wisp; it was the place that had finally felt like home. To hear June confirm its destruction made the "suffocating" trees seem to move a few inches closer. But Milky’s loyalty flared, hotter than the stinging exhaustion in her joints. She stepped closer, her star-speckled flank pressing against June’s golden side for a moment of shared warmth. She needed to be the navigator now—not just for direction, but for hope. "High ground," Milky whispered, her voice gaining a sliver of its usual playful energy, though it was tempered by the gravity of their situation. "Yes. My mother used to say that the wind is the breath of the world. It doesn't like being trapped in the dark any more than we do. It’ll be up there, June. I can feel it pulling at my mane already, just a tiny bit." She turned her head to follow June’s gaze toward the northern slope. The terrain was a mess of "swarming bushes" and jagged, mossy rocks, a far cry from the easy, rolling turf of the plains. Milky's ears swiveled, filtering out the bitter trill of the birds, listening for the deep, low whistle of a breeze through the high canopy. "I'll go first," Milky decided, her hooves dancing nervously against the soggy grass. "I’m light, and I can see the solid ground better. If I can find a path through the shadows, you won't have to strain that shoulder as much. We just have to reach the ridge before the sun starts to drop." She took a tentative step into the thick undergrowth, her dappled coat acting like a beacon of light in the dim forest. She paused and looked back over her shoulder, her dark eyes soft and encouraging. "Don't look back at the valley, June. Look at my stars," she said, nodding toward the white spots on her back. "They’ll lead us to the wind." |
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Milky's certainty seemed to ground June, dragging her from a dark pit of despair and helplessness. June's ears perked forward, attentive, interested. The light had returned to her eyes. June only ever had a small morsel of pride - confidence, in a plentiful amount - but not a lot of pride. However, in the moment that Milky stepped up to be navigator, June felt a blow to her ego. June was the older mare (only by a couple years, mind you), she's supposed to be the more experienced one. She should be the one who takes charge. It was hard not to feel inadequate when she grew up being the nervous one or the scatterbrain of the herd. For some reason, this never bothered her until now. Maybe part of her was just acutely aware of the silence that came from the herd's absence, and wanted the company again, even if they were just going to tease her. June shook off these thoughts. Get it together, June. You doubt yourself, you don't survive out here - even if that reality was a bit chilling. She focused on Milky as the other mare angled herself ahead, prepared to lead the way. The spots decorating her golden coat organized themselves in a sporadic arrangement, some fainter and others more visible - just like stars. Stars. June remembered gazing at them in the valley, where they could be seen overhead. They comforted her then, and they did now. June straightened her posture and took a step forward, favoring her injured shoulder, ready to follow Milky's direction. "And when we find the wind, we find the others." |
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June’s words settled into Milky’s chest like a steady drumbeat. And when we find the wind, we find the others. For a moment, Milky just held onto that. Not questioned it. Not feared it. Just… believed it. Her ears flicked forward, catching something faint—so faint she almost thought she imagined it. A whisper. Not a sound exactly… more like a feeling brushing along her coat. Wind. Not much. But it was there. Milky took another careful step into the undergrowth, placing her hooves deliberately between tangled roots and slick stones. The forest resisted them—branches tugged at her mane, damp leaves clung to her legs—but she pushed through, her determination burning brighter than her fear. “It’s there,” she murmured, more to herself than June. “Just like I said…” She glanced back again, making sure June was still close. The sight of the golden mare following—steady despite the limp—gave Milky a little burst of courage. “You’re doing good,” she added softly, not in a bragging way, just honest. “We’ll take it slow. No rushing. The wind won’t leave us behind.” The slope grew steeper as they climbed. The ground shifted from soft, wet grass to rougher earth mixed with patches of stone. Milky’s hooves clicked faintly against them, and she paused, ears snapping upright. There. A real sound this time. Not birds. Not leaves. A low rustle… deeper in the trees. Off to their left. Milky froze. Every muscle in her body went tight, her breath catching. The memory of her mother—of the bear—flashed sharp and sudden through her mind. “…June,” she whispered, barely louder than the trembling leaves. “Don’t move.” Her eyes locked onto the darker patch of forest ahead, where the shadows seemed just a little too thick… just a little too still. The wind brushed past them again—slightly stronger now—but this time, it carried a scent with it. Something alive. Milky swallowed hard, her voice shaking just a little despite how hard she tried to steady it. “…We’re not alone.” |
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Sunny and Warmer
