He stands in what was once the peaceful living room to a cottage. The walls of were a subdued shade of magenta crystal with round windows,snugly shut with painted wooden shutters that muffled all the sound. The inside was dusty and sparsely furnished by somewhat sad, worn, wooden furniture draped with patchy blankets that probably couldn't handle being passed down another generation. Bright and shiny glass vases held fresh mountain flowers that nodded against the air that slipped through the shutters, as if they wanted to go home and once again be rooted in soil.
A fuzzy woolen rug was kicked at an odd angle in the brief and futile struggle. It was pierced with holes that were occupied by dully shining black crystals.
Everything was splattered with blood, there were flecks on the walls and large pools everywhere. They seeped out of two ponies lying on the ground, their forms were not yet cold.
A mare with a silver coat and pale rose mane and a mark of some sort of grey bird perched among mountain flowers. Mockingbird had been gardening at dawn today, now here she was. Her coat, like the pony next to hers had dulled with her life force. She no longer had a throat to sing lullabies with.
Next to her was her husband, till death do they part. He was a pegasus, although now it was hard to tell since the side pressed to the floor had been savagely torn by the crystals, severing one of his wings. He was pale blue and had a limp mane and tail of yellow. Had he really been down in the pastures tending his flocks just mere hours earlier? Had Azurite? I'm sure if you could have asked him now even he wouldn't believe you.
Azurite lay closer to the hearth, where a silent fire flickered as if all was well. That was how he found this place., the smoke from the chimney led him right to this simple little hovel in the mountains. It was so easy. There were no neighbors to speak of unless you counted the garden he saw in the distance. It was positively bursting with color.
The crimson aura encircling Sombra's curved horn dulled and the crystals stilled. Despite his youth there were dark circles under his eyes, which were a more vibrant shade then his magic, and a somewhat tired look to him. Even so he had a silent and aggresive way he carried himself that any thief would fear.