| Subject: {^>•<^}... A powerful hoof strikes the barren earth ...{^>•<^} |
Author:
Equinox
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Date Posted: 14:15:07 05/09/01 Wed
Author Host/IP: px1nr.wp.shawcable.net/24.66.94.140
*The furious sensations rush through his veins, curling the limp, intricut masses, splitting their worth at the seams, spilling the fresh, sharp-scented blood to rush through his body, rise up the cluttered cavity of his neck and drown his mind in the thick, sticky mass, allowing no mercy, no hope of withdrawl, no motion of the hand to pull from his desperately fluttering nostrils....... The heal had been quick.. The time of recovery, of renewal, the mottled, unsightly mess which coats his side nothing more than a deep scar, a part of him, of his identity, yet another mark of survival earned through this trying lifetime, the life that he could not escape, nor could he deny, a life shrouded in pain, in question, masked only by the thin curtain of hope that sheilded his gaze from the horror that lay inevitably behind it, lurking, prowling, pouncing, the jaws of a thousand wild cats gaping inches from the fiber, testing his flexes as they lunge openly toward him... This, he had lived with for as long as he had lived.... For four years, trapped in this concealing carousel of preplanned events, events which held no good at all, the most difficult wrapped in beautiful silks to conceal the ugly truth beneath.. And worst, worst of all, worst of everything, of his tries, his few moments of peace, the struggle that he had taken even to make it through this far, all held in the one realization, the realization that churned his blood, tainted his breath, caught his body cold in its actions...... He was alone.. Alone.. The most frightening realization physically possible, simply one, the fact that all of these trials must be taken alone, without guidance nor companionship from any.. Another giant hoof strikes the splay of meadow grasses beneath him, the stalks slithering stealthfully up the newly-set cannon, reaching without shame for the sleek plate of his shoulder which rests just within its grasp.... But no matter, he was alone.. The wind protests his defiant actions as he raises his great head, the point of his dark muzzle scraping the cover of blue which rests before his eyes, the light, innocent hue fast to be swallowed by the carry of heavy grey over the low dome... His deep, emotionless gaze carefully studies the endless horizons, the rises, the falls, the wood, the thick, traced by his vision, persued by it, searching for the one thing he lack, the one thing he shant bear to have... Those two.... Those two that had layn their trust in him, those two that had walked with him, that had had faith in him.. The two that had ever made a difference, yet a burden, all the same.. For these two.... These two that he seeks, would not share his love for them.................*
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