There was a stillness to this day that drove Sloane mad. She hated it. It was as if the world had simply stood still. The trees did not creek, the leaves did not rustle, waves did not crash against the sand with a ferocious vigor, and birds did not call out. The summer was already stifling and the lack of breeze was not helping in the least bit. Even as she stood on the beaches of her own private island, Sloane was growing restless. Her hair stuck to her neck in a matt of sweat and keratin. It made her feel disgusting and it only pissed her off more than she already was. And perhaps that was what caused her to decide that she would take a stroll to the river. Perhaps the moving water would make this day a little less like living in the fires of hell.
By the time she arrived at the river, the sun was straight overhead, the heat almost making sweat evaporate off her body like steam. Where she had hoped the moving river would offer her some sort of relief from the warm temperatures, it only brought irritation.
Feet stand in the calmness of the river, the lack of rains making the current slow and the water level low. Not even the river made a sound as it rushed over the smoothness of the rocks below. In fact, the only sound made was the splashing of the water as she churned it with her hoof in utter irritation. Fuck Delumine. Fuck the river. Fuck Somnus (not that it was his fault, he was only guilty by association).
Ears flatten against the crown of her head as she tries to do something with the irritation and annoyance that seem to run rampant on this particular morning. Normally, she’s not quite so unpredictable, but she cannot help it. She needed something to distract her thoughts. Normally it was the gentle rustle of the trees as the wind moved them from side to side. But on this particular day, it was as if the whole world stopped and there was no longer anything to distract her.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, from around the corner came the vision of another that she had not met before. God help the poor soul because the look that Sloane gave her as she turned to lay eyes on the individual who had ruined her moment (as if it could be ruined) was nothing short of the look of complete annoyance and utter disbelief that her moment could be disturbed. Sloane, poor soul, hated to be in the company of others, but especially when she was so worked up and uptight that the slightest thing might set her off in the wrong direction. This was definitely not the way their meeting should be, but unless the wind suddenly picked up, Sloane wasn’t sure this mare could make it any better.
And if the look she had given the youngster was not terrifying enough, the tone of the words that left her lips were downright rude and vile. “What do you want?” There was an underlying tone of annoyance that was perhaps accentuated by the look that accompanied the words. Poor Maerys, sweet Maerys, what ever have you walked into?
@Maerys
