» the calm before the storm

Eira... Eira’s desire to avoid attention seemed all the better justified when the water (at least, that’s what it looked at first glance to be) swelled suddenly from its course to navigate around the flames of her brave, armoured friend and coat the brazen Valkyrie in gunk. Her chipped, cloven hooves quickened backwards and she fell further into the rainy shadows across the rocks which skirted the crowd’s body of activity, until - With a small gasp and uncertain waver of her ears, the emaciated yearling spotted the black-pelted stranger streak towards her. Crooked knees strained as they worked to leap aside, then her shaggy, matted frame turned to mount a slippery, broken boulder and escape. But the stallion’s focus was not on Eira, it seemed, his murky-looking eyes were set upon the rockery still concealed her and the child gulped heavily as those yet lingering, gradually took heed to follow the plan he suggested. A masculine voice rang out above the roar and the drumming down rain. One after the other they approached and began to tumble rock after rock, towards the fouled stream. Slipping from her perch, with barbered, flightless wings flung apart to catch her, the young filly swept to the toiling side of the giant hybrid who after a time, began arranging a muddy wall along the water’s bloated flank. She hurried to help him, eyeing the white mare who was yet to contribute with nervous curiosity - yet also the river, who she dared not approach to closely, carrying first one small mouthful of wet stone and then another, to place among the rest.   "I am a book of snow, a spacious hand, an open meadow, a circle that waits, I belong to the earth and its winter."

- Pablo Neruda, Winter Garden