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. . . M u t e . . .
Sleek femme, the color of the black cadence of the moon danced lightly upon the boundaries. No response but a slight lowering of the head was given towards Dark Star, abused vocals remaining silent in the forlorn light. Orbs dance quickly across the plains of the lands which so many inhabited. Ivories clicked, as the obsidian mare moved restlessly about in the shadows. Nostrils quivered expectantly, white dancing around the edge of the depths of her chocolate orics.
Scars traced unfrequently across her delicate features. Uncertianty danced across her actions as she tenderly stepped from within the foilage, staying a distance from the others, though warily observing them.
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