Welcome to Gaia! ::

The heat clung to Gypsy Winter’s teal and white pelt like a suffocating second skin, the humidity in the air enough to make him antsy. It was like breathing in water, his throat thick and cottony. What the hell was Mother Nature doing? Going through menopause? Having hot flashes? If this was normal summer weather, well then summer was on his black-list. Ears pinned flat against his skull, the angeni-winged stallion bucked, kicking his heels up in the air, kicking at the invisible, suffering humidity. A snort cut through the air as he launched forwards, hooves reaching for the earth, digging in and kicking up grass in his wake.

Muscles knotting in his shoulders, he arched his back and slowed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Not he was hot AND winded. Winter sighed, his pelt darkened with sweat and heat, his muscles warm and supple. That’s when he heard it—a rustle, the soft velvet of a voice—and his sour spirits rose a little. As long as it wasn’t that bumbling blue fool, today might be interesting. Shaking his dark mane so that the silver beads clinked together and the silver fluff of his foremane fell over one eye, Winter inched forwards and poked his head around the bushes, eyes widening at the sight of a…very handsome red stallion, with wings and curls of black and silver. The smartass comment he’d held on his tongue was bitten back and instead a very soft, “Hi…” popped out of his mouth. Damnit, now he sounded like a love-stricken filly… He cleared his throat and repeated. “Um. Hi. The roses are a nice touch.”