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Post by Hazel on Oct 26, 2010 14:24:54 GMT -5
The great plains stretched further than her eyes could see. It was stunning. The blades of grass slowly wafted to and fro in the light breeze, birds chirped overhead in the few birch trees littered about the fields and the clouds drifted lazily through the cerulean skies. Bliss; perfection. Yet it seemed oddly empty. Quiet despite the birds, despite the beauty.
Her legs moved slowly, steps cautious and cranium darting side to side, watching, restless. Behind her, the forest stood solemnly, framing the picture with its curled branches, reaching endlessly, hopelessly, towards the sky. Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the midday sun and she smiled. She seemed to be alone and although it might have been nice to have someone to talk to, she was used to the silence.
Kicking her heels, she burst from her walk into long, powerful strides. She couldn't fight, but boy could she run. Run and never look back; only the future mattered. Like the wind, she moved from place to place, never settled, never still.
The wind whistled through her mane, her ears pricked forwards and her neck arched gracefully before her head was thrown upwards as a whinny escaped her lips. Loneliness was not so lonely after all; horses in herds seldom got the freedom she did. Whistler could run from place to place without any worries, without bonds, or the constant reminder of her status as property. She was no ones object.
She didn't know how long she was running for - it didn't matter - she wanted to run until her legs could no longer take it, until her breath was taken from her and the world went dark. But in that time, she would have no friends, no family. With that thought, she skidded to a stop and shook her head. "Don't think like that, girl." She muttered to herself. She thought and acted for herself, she needed nobody to survive. But still, it really was lonely, sometimes. |
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