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Date Posted: 11:45:04 09/11/02 Wed
Author: ¤‡¤ Indigo Shimmer ¤‡¤
Author Host/IP: host62-7-112-16.in-addr.btopenworld.com / 62.7.112.16
Subject: ¤‡¤ Darkness Descends ¤‡¤



The darkness has feared me for five years. I am of brumby blood and a bronc of the night. My chassis is midnight black, although silver moonstones dapple my hindquarters. The charcoal flames of my hangings are sprinkled with glittering stars. I move with swinging strides, my hooves barely skimming the ground, floating across the sea of shadows, which I call my home.



http://www.piebalddachshund.com/ibnsideview.jpg"



Purple clouds hovered like vultures, eventually descending, extinguishing the sun’s light. Night came. The moon rose in the sky, replacing the sun as the world’s guardian. The land was blotted with pools of murky ink, which steadily spread, cloaking the land in shadow. Ghostly shapes of snowgums rose out of the darkness like fingers, grasping at the cloaks of midnight. Their pale, lifeless forms coiled in the night wind, doubling over as though in extreme pain. Moonlight rippled on the slender trunks, as though silver blood was seeping out of the gnarled bark, tiny rivers trickling between the swaying branches. The wind rushed through cracks, hurried between ragged twigs like a busy crowd, causing the trees to cry out sharply in pain, then moan softly to themselves. Moonbeams chased each other, twisting between the crooked branches, casting everything they touched in an icy glow. And from the dense sea of shadows, rising from the waves of black silk, a stallion was conjured. The shadows withdrew, shrinking back in fear, withering at his presence. Eventually, they watched nervously from a distance, like a pack of wolves, prowling, creeping, growling hungrily. He ignored them, weaving between the snowgums, his muscular body rippling, shining silver as moonlight highlighted the black hairs. A night breeze wrapped him in its deadly grip, clutching at his neck like a scarf, a scarf spun with the most delicate gauze. A tunnel of shadows loomed above him and he was sucked into its depths, hooves barely skimming the ground, mane and tail fluttering gently. For a second there was a break in the shadows, and he was seen, illuminated by moonlight. His mane cascading like a waterfall of molten silver, curling down his arched neck, beads of silver tumbling unwittingly into the night. His tail flashing, strands twinkling a cold blue, sparks of fire in the everlasting darkness. His eyes glittered like burning coals and a haunting cry escaped his lips, echoing in the deadly silence, eventually dying, trapped between heavy cloaks of velvet. The shadows, hearing his cry and suddenly becoming bold, hurtled towards him, advancing for the kill. He snapped at them in anger, spinning wildly, hooves flailing, eyes rimmed with pearly moonstones, and they howled in pain, frayed and torn. Suddenly, a cloud eclipsed the moon’s radiance. For a second, the land was cast in darkness. The fight was obscured. Then, the cloud, flashing silver, drifted lazily on its way. Moonlight slowly filled the scrub again, cold fingers caressing branches and twigs, leaving an icy trail of diamond chips. The stallion was gone. The scrub was empty. Only the flattened grass and his scent, dancing gaily on the breeze, showed any proof of him ever being there…



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