Her carressing features wound through the canyon with ease. Each muscle pulling her closer to her destination that she wasn't ready to go to yet. They stretched as a leg extended and clenched tightly as she crushed it against the hard ground. Each hoof placed in front of the other, taking another's place as she dragged herself closer. Each shoulder rolled back and underneath her coat, you could see the rolling muscle, strong and powerful. Each lock of silvery grey hair started out as a tiny roll that lapsed into a ripple, a screeching snap lit in the air as it ended, it continued over and over. Each tress of hair that strided down her thick neck, silky and tangled, seemed all in the wrong place. Each piece of hair that belonged to her forelock trundled down her face, masking her pair of once maroon orbs.

Her sides fell, in and out, breathes silent and shallow. As her skin curled with shivers, her neck curved with a delicate movement and beauty glowed from her skeleton. The large, blocky head that nearly touched her chest, held everything that was dear important. The twin towers that brought in every sound folded back in hurt, every sound was clear and harsh to her; being in a dark and silent land for so long did that to you. The two nostrils that brought in every delicious and crude smell also brought out the breathe that took away her lungs, crushing them and then bringing them back to life, over and over again. Lips, lush and pink, did not curl up into a sly and mischevious smirk or showed any sign of emotion, just a thin, straight line. Then as you travel up her face, you come to the mask of hair. Covering those pair of orbs, all life gone from the once glittering orbs of happiness. Her pupils seemed to grow large and emotionless, taking over the deep red, a thin line circling the large black, no white, just black and a thin line of red.

The shining night fell upon her coat of dapple. The lush grey and white, circling and spotted glowed the once magnificance that she once was. The only thing that did not seem dead and emotionless on her body was her coat of beautiful dapple grey. Though in the spots where she was badly scarred the radiance seemed to dim and die out, it seemed to spread out; her coat splotched and growing dimmer with each fierce cut. She deemed herself closer to the "herd" then she suspected it to be. Every eye turned to her, bat, creature, ghost, fish, daughter. All eyes turned to the beauty that returned for the last time, but him. The stallion that saved her from neat death, that returned the love that she lost, gave her back her name and life, the one that saved her. Her body lurched forward to take another step, but stopped. She stood there, alone without another to touch her. Her daughter didn't dare take any movement toward her mother, no. Nobody did, why wouldn't he look at her.

----

And as she wound her caressing features through the harsh forest of willows, nothing showed through her mask.
She was merely walking around, the dark feild hopeless of any stallions and this place just seemed interesting.
Standing there, she looked magnificent in her own light, unchanging and changing.
The wild banshee had awoken.

Dame blanc [x]