| Subject: The return of a large family, their lives filled with hatred, pain, and dissapointment, attempting to regain a life in an old home, if any could remember them...>>>>>> |
Author:
Spanish Wanderer, Chikari, Magari, Excalli, Lydan
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Date Posted: 20:32:39 04/08/01 Sun
Author Host/IP: NoHost/172.136.29.215
Success strikes only few of us, leaving the rest battered and bruised by fate, dragging us to the very pits of hell before giving us even a small glimmer of hope. For a family, the tragedy can multiply, causing further pain for the members....
A small party of five equines enters, once more, their gaze washing over the familiar, yet changed landscape. Leading the small group, a steed, tall, lean, healthy, strong, proud, and loving, a perfect arabian, the product of rape, of anger, hatred, abuse. He stands now, the past behind him, his future dim. He had lost it all time and time again, lost even the small glimmer of hope he had once received. Though he was young, perhaps only 7, the years had taken their toll, etching his bones and muscles with pain and intelligence. He stood silent, the wind playing with his long tail, dancing with his mane, his dark orbs showing his mind, the intelligence beyond his years that he contained and embraced. Hope had left him, he was certain. All he could do now was to help his family, pray for their safety, and give them the love his father would not...
Behind the stallion stood a younger steed, his pelt a gentle chestnut, as opposed to his brother's dark bay. He was certainly younger, yet still wise, having never felt the hope and pain brought forth by a mare, as had his brother. He stands proud, the past behind him as well, yet the future before him, promising hope, perhaps a herd, love, all the things he had never felt from any but his family. He looked up to his older brother, knowing only the horror stories, knowing only the loss of friendship, knowing naught of love, desire, desperation, the pain and haunting that came after. Naive and handsome he stood, willing to protect his family, muscles not as strong, at being only 5 years, yet his pride and love for family was strong...
Standing further back was a bay mare, her 11 years of age showing, pain, abuse, hatred, all showed by the way she held herself, as though she had been beaten by life, yet fate had not granted her the sanctuary of death yet, but simply continued the pain and torture, her family being the only safe harbor. Her coat lay dull over weak muscles, thick mane and tail tangled, dust and dirt hiding any beauty she had left. She was old, her heart broken in many places, held together by the tape that was her family, her loving offspring, all compliments of rape, of the stallion who so brutally beat her, forced her to bend to his will, forming four foals thusfar. Heaven forbid he locate her once more, or more shall be on the way...
Standing beside the mare was a filly, 3 years of age, ready to search for a herd. She was young and naive, yet a beautiful copper bay hue, white socks along two legs, white blaze covering her face, full and slender, a beauty. Pain and hatred did not belong to her. She had never met the cruel stallion that sired her, nor felt the pain he brought. She stood silent, not understanding why her brothers were so dominant, and enforced that she remain with them, as a family. She wished to get out, to be adventurous, to find a wonderful stallion who could love her...
Pinned to the mare's side was a young yearling colt, his ebony pelt shining greatly, his beautiful arab features matching his father's. He stood silent, knowing nothing of his father, of pain, of hatred, hope, nothing. He was simply a colt, searching for playmates that his family would not let him have, a wandering soul stuck with his family, still dependent upon them, yet certain that he would become a wonderful stallion...
The family stood silent, knowing the land, yet knowing it's downfalls. Would any remember them? They had been gone a long while. They had lost hope and had returned, unable to bear the pain any longer. If they could not hide from Tornado Desert, they would simply stay here. He had left this land, left his mares, searching once again for mares that would bend to his rule, that would provide him with further pleasure, building new offspring that he could take his anger out upon...
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