Icefell & Herd

Icefell carried her dappled head high, feeling a new vigor and strength rush through. The tangy odors of the distant ocean were fresh on the breeze, held aloft on winds that were carrying a warmth with them that was a herald of warmer months to come. Within a month's time, most of the snow would be in retreat across the land, and the open plains would once again blossom forth with all the green grass she and her small family could care to eat! That is... if she could secure a home for herself here. The scents of animals were many and numerous, but their stink was not particularly strong in this area. Icefell was hopeful that she could take this bit of land for herself without the current inhabitants becoming aware of it; after all, with only herself, two growing offspring, and Ultair, they were not the greatest force to be reckoned with.

Soon to reach his third year in age, Polemos' time with his family was fast approaching the time where he may be butted out of the picture by his uncle, Ultair. Until that time though, he acted more like a colt than the young stallion he was growing into, and frequently frolicked about and showed more interest in playing than he did anything else. In fact, the ebony Polemos was bucking past his sister Lys as the moment, giving her a mock nip along the shoulder.

"Cut it out, Pole." The lighter hued sister snorted, giving a mock snap back at him, but not engaging in the game of chase that he'd tried to entice her into. Instead, she cantered along after her mother, stopping ever now and then to scrape past the melting snow on the ground to search for food.