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Date Posted: 14:55:38 11/17/01 Sat
~!~ The wiry frame of a thin, darkened mare shivers quietly into the meadow, her entrance hushed, an aura of silence and animosy wrapped taunt around her neck, her jerking stride. Head tossed high in mock-pride, she floats into the clearing like a fogbank, presence untraceable, shadow drawn long and cross-stiched behind her. Small, compact hooves strike the softened ground dully, nostrils filled with the promise of thick autumn and wine. Heart drumming quickly within her slender, muscular chest, she pauses sharply, image fully reflected across the wind as her entire being pulls forth into the field, bared and somehow naked, painful to the eye. Hollowed heart filled with cobwebs, a dry, dusky taste of ash and choking suffocation, she draws a deep breath, hauling on the air as if sucking dreams from a peach. One ear pricked forward, dark gaze intensely empty, she shudders quietly as other horses materialize in the darkness, phantoms emerging from the blackness of the inky blanket of night. A crescent moon, so still and horribly silent, hangs at a jaunty angle above her, and suddenly sharply aware of the dark, all her senses spring to life, terror cutting off her supply of air as she gasps. The throbbing of the night pulsates and pushes against her, the faint ache of remembrance and loneliness poking and jarring her sides with blistering irons, scarring brands of reminder into her thin, raven skin. Torn mane tying itself in knots through the snatching fingers of the wind, body twisting and recoiling away from the stabbing blackness, her breath snags in her throat, eyes focused on the frightening sight of the moon, eerily veiled behind a shadow of thin cloud. Suddenly, her body thrusts forward, neck snaking out like lightning as her limbs snatch her into a jet-propelled gallop, wild and raggedly elegant, tail smoking out behind her powerfully compact haunches, gleaming muscle. Moon leveling itself over her head, she races the ghouls of her psyche, each hollow moan reminding her of the scars she wears, the memories she lives, the ache she cannot forget. She storms on towards the sky, to the future, her tattered form whisking itself into whatever the shadows may reveal to her, her mind frayed and unwinding more with each rapid stride.
She had a son. Her single offspring; her proginy. The colt was destined to be big, to become a legend in his own time and for centuries beyond. His name was to be known everywhere, spoken in every harrem, in the minds of every mare and steed. The tiny, half-grown figure stumbles wearily along behind her, struggling to keep tempo. The stars had alligned correctly for him, and good fate was with him at all times.
But for now, she had no place to live, no place to keep her simple purposes in mind - raise her tiny prince, hate others. Sharp ears immediatly lacing back, smashing tight to her faded skull, flashing ivories clap on the thin air around her like bone, thrusting limbs slamming into the moist earth, one dipped shoulder rounding out her pivot, one hind lancing out in warning lest anyone come to close to her child. Hissing out a warning to those around her, wild and manic in her craze, teeth clatter upon nothing as she swings her arched body in a semi-circle, enfolding herself around her son as she threatens... ~!~
Keep back.
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