Post by The Piebald on Nov 12, 2013 15:33:40 GMT -5
The peace of dusk was broken by the clouds leaking out heavy rain, a storm hitting the plains heavily. Quickly drenching the surrounding area by nightfall, the rain continues on through the blackening skies above, all through the night. The life quickly began to seemingly seep away into the darkest of holes and caves, looking for any shelter against the freezing cold and chilling winds.
As the growing storm rages on, increasing dramatically in velocity, an averagely sized equine shifts itself carelessly through the rain, skullage held low. Even from a distance, one could tell something was... Off... About this equine. Some undeniable past haunting the fairly young mare. The shadow of an equine makes its way gradually up the nearest hill, surveying the surrounding area.
Suddenly, from the clouded skies above, the lightning illuminated the sight of the mare, revealing a saddened, seemingly young horse. She was a bay tobiano in colour, yet her pelt was stained with traces of red, blue and purple, the odd substance drooling down her pelt slowly, leaving coloured stains across her flanks. It was at these times, it could be wondered... What was the point in lift? Such was what Mala was thinking. Why live only to die... Inside and out? But the one thing that haunted her imagination and thoughts, was her own memory. Death... Horror... Bloodshed... Sorrow. She winces at the thought. As the rain continues to fall heavily, she just stands at the peak of this hill, staring out blankly, if not sorrowfuly, to the terrain ahead. Where would she go now? What would she do?
Why her?
As the growing storm rages on, increasing dramatically in velocity, an averagely sized equine shifts itself carelessly through the rain, skullage held low. Even from a distance, one could tell something was... Off... About this equine. Some undeniable past haunting the fairly young mare. The shadow of an equine makes its way gradually up the nearest hill, surveying the surrounding area.
Suddenly, from the clouded skies above, the lightning illuminated the sight of the mare, revealing a saddened, seemingly young horse. She was a bay tobiano in colour, yet her pelt was stained with traces of red, blue and purple, the odd substance drooling down her pelt slowly, leaving coloured stains across her flanks. It was at these times, it could be wondered... What was the point in lift? Such was what Mala was thinking. Why live only to die... Inside and out? But the one thing that haunted her imagination and thoughts, was her own memory. Death... Horror... Bloodshed... Sorrow. She winces at the thought. As the rain continues to fall heavily, she just stands at the peak of this hill, staring out blankly, if not sorrowfuly, to the terrain ahead. Where would she go now? What would she do?
Why her?