Post by Esmeralda on Nov 9, 2017 3:23:06 GMT
Days like these were Atalanta's favorite.
The rain was a distant pattering on the thick canopy of leaves above her head, shielding her from brunt of the steady downpour--an occasional drop slipped through, of course, but it was surprisingly dry down on the forest floor. The air was pleasantly cool, but not cold, and though it was a little humid, the weather was still delightfully mild. A perfect day for gathering berries.
Atalanta tugged a brittle branch of berries off of a bush, shaking the berries off of the branch and into her patched up saddle bag. Blue Aster was insistent on 'living off the land,' but had a tendency to harvest her vegetables too soon, rendering them either simply unpleasant to the taste buds, or downright inedible, so Atalanta went out to gather berries whenever she had the chance. Letting out a sigh, Atalanta grabbed another spindly branch between her teeth, snapping it off the bush and gathering those berries as well. However, the bag was already full and Atalanta hadn't gathered nearly enough berries, so she leaned in and took out the only unnecessary item.
Tucked into her saddlebag, alongside berries of all different colors, was Atalanta's only stuffed animal: a stuffed lamb she had named Bambi. As one of the few gifts Thunder Dust had given her when she was young, it was one of her most treasured possessions, and she'd carried it with her everywhere for years. Unfortunately, the constant travelling had taken its toll, and the lamb's leg had fallen almost entirely off, the stitches loosened and hanging slack from years of wear and tear. Tossing it across her back, Atalanta collected the rest of the berries from the bush, then continued along the invisible path she had long since memorized. Collecting berries was a systematic procedure, and she did it the same way every week.
Hence her incredible surprise when there was an interruption in the routine.
The snapping of twigs from somewhere to her right, the crunch of dry leaves under foot--very likely could have been some animal, but Atalanta was the anxious sort who couldn't rest until she knew for sure, so she picked her way across the ground, carefully avoiding anything that could have made noise, until she found the source of the noise: an unfamiliar pony, wandering through her woods. Uncommon, save for the annual Running of the Leaves. Frowning at the stranger intruding on her routine and her territory, Atalanta stepped out into the open, bracing herself and pulling up to her full height (which was, admittedly, unimpressive).
"Who are you?"
The rain was a distant pattering on the thick canopy of leaves above her head, shielding her from brunt of the steady downpour--an occasional drop slipped through, of course, but it was surprisingly dry down on the forest floor. The air was pleasantly cool, but not cold, and though it was a little humid, the weather was still delightfully mild. A perfect day for gathering berries.
Atalanta tugged a brittle branch of berries off of a bush, shaking the berries off of the branch and into her patched up saddle bag. Blue Aster was insistent on 'living off the land,' but had a tendency to harvest her vegetables too soon, rendering them either simply unpleasant to the taste buds, or downright inedible, so Atalanta went out to gather berries whenever she had the chance. Letting out a sigh, Atalanta grabbed another spindly branch between her teeth, snapping it off the bush and gathering those berries as well. However, the bag was already full and Atalanta hadn't gathered nearly enough berries, so she leaned in and took out the only unnecessary item.
Tucked into her saddlebag, alongside berries of all different colors, was Atalanta's only stuffed animal: a stuffed lamb she had named Bambi. As one of the few gifts Thunder Dust had given her when she was young, it was one of her most treasured possessions, and she'd carried it with her everywhere for years. Unfortunately, the constant travelling had taken its toll, and the lamb's leg had fallen almost entirely off, the stitches loosened and hanging slack from years of wear and tear. Tossing it across her back, Atalanta collected the rest of the berries from the bush, then continued along the invisible path she had long since memorized. Collecting berries was a systematic procedure, and she did it the same way every week.
Hence her incredible surprise when there was an interruption in the routine.
The snapping of twigs from somewhere to her right, the crunch of dry leaves under foot--very likely could have been some animal, but Atalanta was the anxious sort who couldn't rest until she knew for sure, so she picked her way across the ground, carefully avoiding anything that could have made noise, until she found the source of the noise: an unfamiliar pony, wandering through her woods. Uncommon, save for the annual Running of the Leaves. Frowning at the stranger intruding on her routine and her territory, Atalanta stepped out into the open, bracing herself and pulling up to her full height (which was, admittedly, unimpressive).
"Who are you?"