Hollow found herself alone, it usually was this way with her. She found herself in a field, dried tall grass bent here and there. Mornning frost holding them pinned to the earth. The gound was speakled with glittering jewels of crystals and her nostrals let out breaths of soft clouds from the cold. Winter was coming, not too far off, it would be cold and the soft green grass that she fed on in the summer would be gone, left to chase off deer from what bark on the trees and to dig up small patchs of old grass. She hated winter, she hated the shorter days and the longer nights, it made her feel more alone then ever.
It was great to feel alive again, it had been long since her death and she found herself wondering about feeling the earth under her hooves, a second chance maybe?
Hell was not the greatest of places and she wondered where the rest of the herd she had followed amongst the fires was, the head stallion would not be pleased.
She let out a huff and lifted her head to walk further into the field, She twitched the hair on her back, her pelt dirty, let go of small bits of dust as it lingered in the air. She had not kept up with her appearance, twigs, old leaves lined her main and tail, but she didn't mind, after all who was there to look good for? Her herd was no where in site. She yawned pauseing to argue with herself on having a rest or continueing further along the forest line to the other side.