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Dawnlark Plains old soldiers never die — and they don’t fade away - Printable Version

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old soldiers never die — and they don’t fade away - Saxifrage - December 06, 2016

Snow was a miserable pain in the ass.

Saxifrage set her jaw against the ache in her joints as she trudged through the mess of white, her uneven gait making travel difficult — and when more snow began to fall, she angled her head to glare pointedly at the sky for a long, eloquent moment while offensive flakes gathered in her lashes and began numbing the tips of her ruddy ears.  She rumbled discontentedly, practically seething, as she continued moving north.  "It's so beautiful, they said," she sneered, panting raggedly as she adopted a wheedling falsetto, "oh, it's so much fun to play in, they said."  Her pale tongue swiped irritably at her muzzle, where moisture had begun collecting around her nostrils and forming ice crystals.  "Well.  They were idiots."

They were also her children, and at the time, a much younger Sax had found their enthusiasm for the season endearing.  Maybe Much Younger Sax was an idiot, too.