|
|
Post by Kindred Blue on Jan 27, 2007 15:11:13 GMT -5
She was bigger now. Oh - much bigger. Not that she had ever been small to start with, being the largest foal of the two birthed to outlawed ex-outlaws, Soul and Black Rose.
It had been a violent time for the.. youngster? Bryony had spent some time wandering aimlessly after the foal incident, trying vaguely to take care of her sister, but forever leaving her mind to wander. Inside her bosom, however, was a raging war, between truth and lies, between fools and sciencetists; Bryony often had a sinking feeling that her family was not what it seemed, and wished that she knew more of her own bloodline. The capturing of herself and the other foals of the land had left her time to think, had shown her what evils' grusome face looked like, and it had allowed hate to rear its head within her.
The mare (for it seemed she could not really be called a filly any longer) traipsed slowly, her ruined mane thrown haphazardly over her lowered neck, as her eyes became unfocused and strange. Her mind was not on her surroundings, nor her destination, nor her company, and so she did not notice that the grass she was scuffing could almost be called home. Since her release, she had not been able to remember her way home, and this had pushed her into a back drive.
She looked up for a quick moment, and a flicker of life dashed across her gaze. Though the grass seemed grey and broken to her tired eyes, she took a deept breath and recognised the faint smells that greeted her. She blinked slowly, as colour bled into the stems and the roots, and she dug a hoof deep into the richer brown mud. And then suddenly, after much silence, she snorted - only to jump backward in suprise, ears pinned back and eyes wide, as she whinnied and began to buck with misery and uncalled for fear.
Confused and suddenly full of sorrow, the mare rose a racket in the field, as she practically danced over the grass, almost afraid of her surroundings as if they were a sweet poison that she dare not taste. Her muscled body writhed, her black and white vision brightening but still only seeing her own paint as black and white (for that was indeed her colouring), and for a while it seemed that she would never stop. But she grew tired quickly, and stumbled to a stop, drawing in on herself with heavy breaths as if hoping that she could simply fade away.
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by wolf2 on Feb 3, 2007 19:02:32 GMT -5
».Native Cowgirl.
If you only knew what I've been through... ». The golden mare stood alone in the vast lush grasses of the field. Her glass amber took in every surrounding, of this new land. A land she hoped she could call home. Her keen radars seemed to dance across her head. Catching every sound, every whisper the wind told. She was slick with sweat, hours of cantering can do that to a mare. She had only walked for a total of three hours, the rest at a trot or canter. She wanted to be far away from the men, as quick as she could. This mare was truly wild, never tainted by human hands or eyes. ». Her observations were interrupted by a object throwing a fit in the vast pasture. Her glass ambers strained to make out the object. Was it a threat? Or friend? Soon she realized, it was an equine. Her first thought was that is was a crazy yearling... but the equine was huge. What was the fuss about? She debated on checking the scene. The stranger could be a new foe or friend... or possibly neither. Simply another equine she knew. She stamped the earth with her dull dagger, then tossed her tail toward her side. The flying critters were a great bother to the young mare. ». Native Cowgirl was two years old. Too young to be called a filly in her mind, but not quite a mare. An adolescent female. Looking at the crazed equine, she couldn't tell its age or gender. Was it a mare? Or a stallion? Native herself would prefer a mare. She had a clash with a stallion... one that left her afraid to trust or love another equine. This story... she kept under lock and key. She wish for it to stay that way. ». Soon the young mare could stand it no longer. She threw out her shy impulse for her fiery one. She began to trot toward the unknown equine. As she neared her, Native gave a low bellow... just to make her known to the other. She still stood a distance away... for her own safety. Her radars twitched, and her glass ambers watched the painted one. A mare.... [Bleh. I'll get better once I get back in the game...] |
|
|
|
Post by Kindred Blue on Feb 4, 2007 7:52:50 GMT -5
It was strange, then, how she would hear a sound. For a mere moment she dared to think that it was only in her mind, but it seemed afterwards that her mind did not have the talent to make such a noise, and she was left to face the facts. Bryony turned her head sharply, her wild eyes gazing directly at whatever had bellowed so strangely, and as he ruined mane whipped around her face she must have seemed something crazy.
The stranger was a mare, it seemed, but this only made the youngster more jittery and more nervous; after all, had she not just gone through hell at the hooves of a mare? But upon re-estimation, Bryony noticed that she was infact still somehow larger than the other, and so there would be no threat. The painted equine snorted quietly as the other drew to a definate stop, keeping their distance (for indeed, Bryony must seem very wild and dangerous).
For a moment, Bryony was unsure what to do. Part of her was still nervous and afraid, as she no longer trusted anything she saw or anything that saw her; but another part wished for the stranger to stay, as lonliness had surely broken the poor creature something terrible. Here she was, clambering unknown lands (she had no idea that her grandfather had once led an army over the very grass she stood on), with no family around her to take her home. Lost and alone, something that one so young should never have been.
She snorted once more, tossing her head ever so slightly before turning her gaze back to the stranger. Her eyes were not so wild now, nor so wide; she must have seemed a little more .. normal, even with the tattered mane and strangely thin bodice (strangely for such a large creature). Still she remained unsure, and took a few steps backward - steps that her mind had not even registered before they were taken, as if her body no longer needed permission from her mind.
Dropping her head, Bryony neighed weakly, suddenly overcome by the days of travel and the lack of nourishment, and moreover, the lack of company and a distinct missing space within her, a space where he family should have been. Her knees buckled suddenly, and she dropped the the ground, trembling, unable to make any noise other than her sudden heavy breathing.
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by wolf2 on Feb 5, 2007 16:55:07 GMT -5
».Native Cowgirl.
If you only knew what I've been through... ». After only seconds after her bellow, the duo stood eye to eye. It seemed like it was forever that she stared the midnight splashed mare. It was like a stand off between a renegade outlaw and a noble sheriff. Each daring the other to draw, and when one did the other would also. The fire from a peacemaker, and the the loud call of the pistol. Racing across the pastures, like thunder over the open range. One would fall, they other would live to see another day. This, however, was not the case. They were horses, not able to draw a gun. The only thing they could draw at this moment were words. ». Native's glass ambers shined and twinkled like they always did. The hint of her wild heart, and her cry to forever remain free, unstained from the human eyes and hands. Her golden mane dance in the slight breeze that blew across the vast lands. Her light banner lay still, calm, and unchanging. Her golden coat was no longer slick with sweat, but gleaming with health. Dapples presented proudly to the sun. She was a beautiful mare, no doubt. ». The two stared. Native's mind racing with what the unknown thoughts of the other were. What would happen? She didn't know. The silent land was shattered by a weak neigh. The Native watched as the mare fell to the earth. Native became struck with panic, what had happened? With in a few moments that golden mare raced toward the fallen mare. Trading in her shy manner, simply to help the other mare. It seemed the long yellow grasses parted before her. Leading her to the fallen other. As she neared her keen radars heard the sound of the mare's deep breaths. See had seen this once before in her old home... a memory she could do without. ». She stood over the mare, as if she were her own child. She looked over her, trying to find the foe that caused her pain. Nothing. No wound present to the glass ambers of the mare. She gave a reassuring nuzzle to the mare. It seemed, for the moment, that was all she could do. Her mind raced with thoughts of what to do. It seemed she must ask what was wrong. It was the only thing she could think of at the moment. »."Do you know what wrong, partner?" ». Her words were soft and quiet. Spoken in a whisper, as if they were a secret no one could know. She waited for an answer to her call. Anything. Cold or kind. She wanted to help, she needed a friend in this land. ».Native Cowgirl
And don't pretend you do... |
|
|
|
Post by Kindred Blue on Feb 11, 2007 16:08:48 GMT -5
Bryony flared her nostrils with a little surprise, though she lay still, aside froom her flicking tail. She wasn't sure why she had collapsed, nor was she sure she wanted to be there on the floor in the middle of a field, looking like she was mad. But her mind offered no answers (alas it offered very little at that moment in time) and so she continued to lie there, feeling a little bit stupid.
Hooves thundered close to her, or so it seemed, and suddenly she saw a nose and a pair of blinking eyes looking down on her with real concern, an emotion she had not seen for a long time. Her eyes opened a little wider, as if unsure that she was seeing correctly, and she pushed her ears forewards responsively. Compared to the company she had recently kept, and the apparent dissapearance of all of her family, this stranger seemed almost alien in her kindess - like the good samaritan, but it seemed too good to be true.
At the touch, though, Bryony froze. Her ears moved back, her tail stopped twitching, and her eyes died suddenly, as if she were playing possum and trying to make the stranger leave her for dead. The youngster (she was still young) was scared of the touch, for the last touch she had felt had been when her mane had been ripped, and torn forcefully from her neck. She could almost still feel the pain.
Words were almost a blur, in the way vision can go fuzzy, and people can go light headed and suddenly need to sit down. But Bryony managed to catch them, noticed how soft the voice was, noticed how native it seemed. Partner? Another alien word. Through all her stillness and stiffness, Bryony managed a few small words, and her voice croaked with a hoarse texture, as though it were weak and unused.
"I am lost. I have been travelling for days - I was seperated from my family." But that was she could muster.
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by wolf2 on Feb 13, 2007 17:24:38 GMT -5
».Native Cowgirl.
1,2,3 like a bird I sing...
». Cowgirl felt the mare freeze up, and it startled her. Was she dead? Cowgirl shook the thought out of her head. She had seen many others die, and she hoped this wasn't another tally mark. She picked her head up and looked around. Radars swirling around her head, wanting to catch the faint thunder of hoof beats. Her head dropped down back to the mare. Cowgirl's long mane dropped over her face, and she shook it away. Her mind was racing with thoughts.
». She had picked up her head once more, looking for anything. It was like her mind was far away. Far away from the mare laying before her. Her glass ambers looked across the horizon. Searching for a body, a shiloette... anything. Her banner lashed at her hide. She wanted the first frost to come, and quick... the wrenched blood suckers were on her last nerve. Her dappled, liquid gold coat shimmered, and soon it would be fuzzy with winter hair. She stomped a foot, riding her body of the horrid critters.
». All of a sudden a shiver ran down the mare's spine. She almost jumped into the air... but of course she didn't. The mare had surprised her. Cowgirl thought her dead, or out... but she had apparently misjudged. Her head dropped down to the mare. Her glass ambers looking at her. She listened. After the mare spoke she looked at the sun for a split second, checking the time until night fall. The young mare's words sunk into her. Lost... separated from her family. It was almost like the spot Cowgirl was in herself. Cowgirl didn't know of the foal snatchers and such. Which means she didn't know the full extend of the mare's suffering.
». How long have you been separated from them, partner?" I could help if you'd like...."
». It was all the mare could get out. She had so many questions, but felt it rude to ask most of them. She knew one thing... she'd like to help out.
».Native Cowgirl
Cause you've givin' me
The most beautiful set of wings...
|
|
