Hunger walks with her through the red-limestone with the walls that taste like dust in her teeth when she breathes. It lingers in belly like a snake devouring its own tail with an arthritic jaw. With each circle it makes her rib-cage ache and her muscles quiver with want. But instead of making her hollow and meek, the hunger makes of Thana a wild thing.
She rarely talks when her shadow stretches out to tangle with another in the canyon. Each steps makes her more lean, more feral, more wanting. None of the shadows that tangle with hers stop her. They only look at the red unicorn with bolts of bone-white running down her face. They look at the blade dragging sharp lines in the dirt and look away as if she is nothing more than another hot breeze in the twilight.
Maybe they know she's wild. Maybe they can taste the 'other' on the air that gathers hot around her and makes her sweat. Maybe they know it's more than hunger that drives each of her steps on and on through the dusky shadows and red-rock.
There is no grass to wither and die at her hooves her, nothing tempting enough to taste (only to have it rot on her lips). The canyon hold in it's secrets nothing for her and that's why she lingers in the dust and heat. She doesn't notice though the way the rock crumbles around her blade as if a million sand-storms have passed in a moment. All she notices is red, red that swallows up her form when she lingers closer to the rocks reaching into the sky like towers.
But ahead black breaks up that red and the dusk-darkness. The stallion's form is a suggestion of night, of blackness, that makes her think of that snake in her belly. Thana moves closer and her blade is still dragging tracks in the sand behind her. Her eyes lift, bright purple stones in a sea of red. She wonders if he'll look over her like she's a hot breeze or if he will try to see what sounds a wild, starving animal might make.
Thana holds her breath like the waiting matters to her and she's not sure why.
@Caine
