Lyra A fog lay across the distant land, far beneath her feet. She had conquered the mountain in less than a day, from starting at the foot of the great stony beast, to finding a stoic rocky outcrop that pushed out from the side of the mountain, offering her the best view of the valley below. She watches as the fog swirls over the faraway trees and rocks and rivers, tucking horses away from sight and curling towards the foot of the mountain where it would, eventually, evaporate and become clouds. Hanging with her head precariously close to the edge of the great cliff, Lyra looks like someone to have an inkling of jumping. She hasn’t the wings to guide her down to safety from the drop. Still closer and closer she leans, her piercing silver eyes pouring over the land below her and the crisp, spring breeze ruffling through her long black and white star splashed mane. In just a moment, she steps forwards. An onlooker would think that she was to plummet to her death, but instead she is agile and nimble, and her hooves seem to find purchase on the side of the cliff that seemed to not be there before, leaving her standing parallel to the cliff-face. Such habits were common for the stargazing mare, as the rocky precipices were part of her home, and she was born clinging to the edge of a rocky mountain face back in her war-ridden birthplace. Gleefully, almost, she bounds down the cliff face, her hooves clicking against the small rocks that jut out from the side of the cliff in the form of her 'staircase', their surfaces barely larger than her hooves. Soon, she finds another wide rocky outcrop and makes her landing there. Her hooves thump unceremoniously against the rock and the sparse grass, and breathlessly, she looks around. "speaking" |
@Kaisar <3
