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 Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 2:10 pm
Heavy dew hung off every surface available. Every leaf was a shining, wet green, stems bending awkwardly under the extra weight. The air was saturated with a thick, cloying fog, adhering strongly to whatever it touched. Sakura huffed, blinking moisture from her eyes. It was a miserable day. The sky, invisible anyway, was a dull shade of gray. Her sense of smell was boggled by the mist. The air even tasted damp.
Yet she was still out for some reason. Perhaps it was her natural instinct to be up and about. Perhaps she was used to her daily routine of a long walk through the forest. Perhaps it was something she'd eaten that made her restless. Or, most likely, perhaps she was simply out for the sake of being out. She knew not, it didn't matter.
Her hooves picked out a careful trail through the muddy forest floor. The occasional plant came to trip her up, long vines hiding themselves in the soil. A root here, a rock there. She skipped over the obstacles, her wings slightly outstretched for balance, her tail stabilising her movements as it swayed from side to side. With her eyes cast downwards, focussing on picking out a suitable path, she was mostly blind to her surroundings.
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Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 7:08 pm
Samsara wasn't around. She hadn't been seen by anyone in the Mahapadma for over a week now. Everyone said that it was because their skinwalker leader was probably out recruiting. They expected her to be back any day now with a new Mahapadma member in tow. Bushkin didn't really care about the speculation. What mattered to her was that Samsara wasn't around and without her, Bushkin was bored. She wandered around because there really wasn't anything else better to do.
She idly pushed a deep orange pumpkin in front of her while she walked. It was really a bit of freak chance to find a pumpkin already growing in the start of spring. It was a small and underdeveloped thing, but it was enough for Bushkin. It was probably leftover from the previous season. It could have been preserved for all the long months of winter in the cold that gripped their region. She'd eat it soon, once rolling it along lost its appeal.
She stopped suddenly, putting her hoof down on top of the pumpkin to stop it. There was someone coming. She stood still as a statue waiting, her glowing eyes and hooves flickering under the shade of a tree. She waited for the stranger to show themselves, prepared to attack or defend herself if needed.
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