without a face

[immy]

There’s a man in the dark
But he says he’s not there…

The gray mare slipped through the mists, brown eyes clouded over with thought or perhaps the absence of it. Spine tried to clear her mind, fighting against the constant images flickering behind her eyes. She fought not to remember, her soul frozen over, emotions numb. This was supposed to be a new beginning and if she were to move forward as a different woman she could not afford to dwell on the past. Her tail, significantly more silver than the rest of her cloudy colored frame, swished against her hindquarters, moving with the slight wind of a late spring night. She was unfamiliar with the land but judging by the smells that greeted her nostrils this place would be safe for her physically, although the idea of spending much time around other mares left a sour taste on her tongue.

She paused in her advanced, lifting her head to gaze on the silver face of a full moon. She nickered softly in appreciation of the night and wished for a moment that she was an equine of a different color, one that blended well with the night, someone who could hide in the shadows. Alas, she stood out like a sore thumb no matter how she wished to dissolve into the shadows. The fog fell around her like a cloak of camouflage and the mare spared a moment to appreciate it. Sighing she removed her gaze from the sky and instead surveyed her surroundings, wondering if anyone else felt the need to wander in the darkness.

[Zenyatta]

Night was probably the only time of day that a stallions could enter the Misty Plains and remain unnoticed by either desperate or aggressive mares. Spyderwyck wasn't exactly on the prowl for mares, or really even any social interactions with other horses. So why come to the Misty Plains rather than stay in the Badlands? The stallion couldn't exactly say, but when he'd gotten the urge to travel, south had called to him and that's the direction he went. However, if the thought of travelling even further south brought him to the Everglades, he would turn around and ignore any other feelings until he returned to the Badlands. For the rest of his life, Spyderwyck never wanted to return to those lands, in case he was reminded of the mate and foal he'd lost there a few years previously.

Now, in the darkness of night, Spyderwyck felt comfortable, hidden from anyone that wasn't looking too hard. Not solid black, but not covered in white either, he was a good combination for blending in nearly anywhere he went. He didn't walk very fast or extremely slow, just a normal pace, his neck and head relaxed upon his shoulders as he walked. He was in no hurry nor overly interested in his surroundings. However, movement to one side of him caught his attention. Pausing, he lifted his head, pricking his ears to see what it was that had caught his eye and saw a white horse standing and facing his direction. He froze, not daring to breathe in case that would help the horse (most likely a mare because this was the Misty Plains) spot him and approach him when he wasn't feeling like the most social horse in Hilzaria.

{ooc} sorry for the wait and the crappy reply xD