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Hurrying down the slope, the buckskin-clad mare had found herself traipsing upon a strange substance that clung to her feet, slowing the forward pace she traveled through. Black grass turned to something even more sinister, clinging to the bottom of cloven hooves; she had left the dead dog before it could give her anything in uncharacteristic impatience, irritated with the flood of bodies which hoarded its attention. While riling masses are clumsy and slow, many feet are stronger than one, and many tempers rise hotter, all greedy and eager to claim a gift. She thought back to another life; the exile of an innocent mare, shunned for her beliefs. What was equality if those whose ideals did not match your own were banished, like black cats and witches?
She had come to a dark forest, deeper and blacker than the Deep Forest. Occasionally, she caught the stray glint of frightened eyes and heard the drag of quickened breath. Soon, the bodies became a dark, indistinguishable mass, and Huyana thought to turn back, but it was the creatures that huddled over which drew her on—if the canid corpse had aroused morbid interest, these spiders made her stomach lurch with discomfort and intrigue. They watched the horses from silver-spun webs with beady black eyes, venom dripping from their pincers as she slipped by. The largest lowered himself before the small crowd that has amassed, no doubt hungry for the prizes Huyana saw the creatures bear. She paused, ears flicking back with uncertainty. He spoke through the clicks of his beak, the broken words hissed as he watched them. "Yes," she replied quietly, if only to bate a curiosity that was aroused equally with fear; she wondered if she'd be blessed or cursed, like so many others before her.
[Huy is Pocahontas!]
She had come to a dark forest, deeper and blacker than the Deep Forest. Occasionally, she caught the stray glint of frightened eyes and heard the drag of quickened breath. Soon, the bodies became a dark, indistinguishable mass, and Huyana thought to turn back, but it was the creatures that huddled over which drew her on—if the canid corpse had aroused morbid interest, these spiders made her stomach lurch with discomfort and intrigue. They watched the horses from silver-spun webs with beady black eyes, venom dripping from their pincers as she slipped by. The largest lowered himself before the small crowd that has amassed, no doubt hungry for the prizes Huyana saw the creatures bear. She paused, ears flicking back with uncertainty. He spoke through the clicks of his beak, the broken words hissed as he watched them. "Yes," she replied quietly, if only to bate a curiosity that was aroused equally with fear; she wondered if she'd be blessed or cursed, like so many others before her.
[Huy is Pocahontas!]
