†. My Last Mile

[wolf2]

†. Dane in the breeze...

†. The painted shire mare's steps were slow, her head was carried low to the earth as she walked. Her mind was not on the lands before her, but her past. Her thoughts lay heavy on her big heart. The memories rushed in. That night... and the nights before. Everything seemed so heavy. The mare's story was one that had only been told to her friend Primanka and her daughter Magic... and details had been left out. Her icy pools showed a deep trance as all the thoughts came together.

†. The mare was young, only a filly. Her brother was a yearling. The two were rarely happy, being that their father was always mean to one of them or their mother. Picking at emotions or causing pain. That day the two siblings were playing the the salty grasslands within their sea-side home. For once no pain dwelt within them, they were happy. A shattering cry burst out into the air... their mother. Feather looked back to see her mother bleeding at her father's daggers. Fear swelled inside of her as she and her brother stood their looking at their mother's lifeless body. The painted filly felt her heart drop and looked over to her black coated brother. She heard the pounding of hooves, and when she looked a deep fear set in. Her father's black body was rushing to wards them. His white blaze showed in between his scary eyes. His white mane thrashed about like a wild fire. His feathers covering his stained daggers. She was frozen with fear, but she felt her brother push her away. The filly looked to she her father rearing above his look-a-like son... and come down on her leg. The colt's adrenaline had kicked in, so he didn't feel too much pain... yet. Later he would be crippled. The two ran as fast as they could, with their father right behind them. They wouldn't have escaped if hadn't fell.

†. Her brother had been separated from her that night, taken by humans. The filly had hidden, scared and shook-up. She traveled alone for four years until she came here. She had met a spotted mare named Meg on the cliff, she had just jumped off. Feather dove in after her, and the two became friends. they went to live a the beach where a mare called Amber came. The two spoke... it had seemed they had been in a fight. Soon all three were going to the Sandy Shores, where they would live. That spring Feather had her daughter, Magic. Amber had a colt named Storm, and Meg later had twin colts. Amber died, then soon feather heard of Meg's death after birthing her colts. Feather's friend Primanka disappeared soon after this. All the mare's closets friends were gone, and the war took her dear friend Spirit. She and Magic had been taken by humans, were she found her brother crippled. Used as a shire stud horse for that farm.

†. Now the mare was here, walking along a land she had never seen before. This would also be her last mile. She didn't see that ratter snake that lay before her, she was still deep in thought. The next thing the mare knew she felt a sharp pain in her front left leg, just above her feathers. She looked down to see the rattle snake ready to strike again. The mare reared, thrashing her front legs out wildly. She could feel the pain run up her leg, and she knew her leg was swelling.

†. Soon the mare was limping away from the dead snake. She had landed on his head. She knew she had killed it... but he had killed her too. Soon the mare knew the venom would kill her. She eased her body down to the earth, thankful that Magic wasn't here to see her like this. The snake's den must have been washed out by the heavy rains, she thought. She cold feel her leg swell up even more, and a great pain came along. Her icy blues were cover by her wet forelock. Her mane lay limp. Her feathers and banner lay on the cold earth, they didn't dance. The mare looked to the sky, she would be their soon with her Mother, Spirit, Amber, and Meg.

†. "I'm coming home..."

†. The mare spoke weakly, then shut her icy blues. She took a last deep breath, then slipped away. The graveyards would be her final resting place. Spirit lay in the sea, Amber had died on the sandy shores, Meg the foaling grounds... and her mother in the seaside home. Now the mare could loom over her daughter always, from the sky.

[Hazel]

"NO!"

The stallions cry echoes through the erie lands, his hoofbeats sharp upon the rocky crevasses and ledges. Luskily for him he was used to dodging sharp stones. His dainty daggers raced towards the falling body of his oldest friend, a friend of his fathers. His ebon pelt shimmered dully as he panted, she was dying, he knew it. He could feel the reamaining beats die down within her chest. His own bodice thumped angrilly. Why hadnt he come earlier. He had simply come to pray to his fathers memory, to ask him his fianly question. But that had to wait. Right now his friend needed him.

He was quick by her side, his crest tilted down and eyes screwed up in dispair and anger. Why? Why hadnt he come to greet her when he had first seen her walking through the tundra? He snorted angriy, allowing stream to brush over her newly dead frame. His mug brushed over her gently, she was still warm. Hadnt his father once told him of a time when his mother and Meg were close to death? Back then Spirit had lay besides the two, and his warmth had revived them. Perhaps...? He knelt down and lay besides his oldest companion, his head curled over his crest, interwining with her tassles. He lipped at her aud sadly.

"Please Magic, please wake up...Please..."

He moarned over her, though he doubted he would ever see her again, neither dead nor alive. The waters would soon swallow her up, like his father. It was said that phantom could come back to aid the living, then why hadnt Spirit visited his son, even when he was most in need?

Spirit sighed from above, his aura glistening in the heavens. Soon he would speak to Feather once more, but not his son. Why hadnt he helped him, even when he was just a two year old king? Because he had to learn to survive, to do things his own way and not to reliey on one that has passed. He sighed.

"Magic, what have you done? MY son, my only son, he is alone now, the herd I once so carefully created is dead, only one survives...."

Summers Sunset was the youngest of the original herd, and she was still alive it seemed. But now, his greatly loved shire friend was dead. He moved downwards. It was time. His son would fianly meet his father....

He stood, an ebon shillohette with dead, white eyes, staring at his son with a faint smile. He watched as Storms head rose, gasped, and stood quickly to bow to the once mightly king of the shores.

"Father...."

It was over too quickly. Spirit faded after nuzzling the dead body of Feather with his transulsent mug. He muttered to Feather and vanished, giving only a glance towards his son. Storm followed after the ghost, but Spirit had dissapeared. It was too late. He had gone. He stood, mane billowing out, audes pricked and alert, his midnight pelt hsimmering under the moon. The dead body of Feather lay in the distance, the warmth cooling from her bulky frame. He simply sootd, silently praying in her memory....

[wolf2]

[.Not Magic... Feather.]

[Hazel]

[ yer, tired i knew who it was, just typed the wrong names ]