| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16 HH :: 5 years ~ Birdsong Buff: NOVICE |
| Wild. |
A simple walk in the forest is all she wanted to do. A little peace and quiet; a break from the Wraiths and the stink of rotting flesh. Maybe even a friend to find along the way, have a careless conversation... Be a foal again? She sighs, her ribcage expanding with the long breath. Abishia knows that her childhood is long gone. She did this to herself, throwing it away. The girl was much to focused on being mature, and too frazzled over the fact that she was hornless. She walks along the grassy shore, the lake... or is that a swamp?? Snorting, she dismisses the internal question and moves on. The green blades of grass caress her cornet band, and with every step her lobes twitch unintentionally. her right side is facing the smog waters, her left facing out to a series of trees. All of a sudden, an eerie feeling seems to crawl up her pillars, up herspine, and cloak her. The fae becomes alert, her harks now erect and her nostrils widened, ready to pick up any scent or sound and immediately detect it. Instictively, she flexes her muscles, and stands completely still, looking out into the woodland.
Nothing. She exhales a long breath of relief. But curiosity still has a firm grasp on her; the girl can't help but go take a gander at the new scenery... Cautious steps on strong muscular pillars lead her into the thin forest. She glances from side to side, her forelock swishing this way and that. Her long locks drag behind her now, often getting caught in the various road blocks. She doesn't mind; simply tugging a few times always does the trick. Her walk slows... With every moment she is becoming more uneasy, her guides screaming no, and telling her to turn back. But what are they? They are just spirits. What do they know of this Dark World we are now captive in? That's right. They don't know a thing... Or, that's what Abishia thinks anyway. She glares at the translucent figures at her sides, ordering them to shut their traps. But the filly has now power over the spirits, and they just scream louder. She shakes her dome, trying to rid of the voices that just won't let up. Foolishly she walks deeper and deeper into the wood. Delirious and arrogant, she's immune to common sense.
Then it happens. Just as she is lifting her right fore-hoof, a tree snaps out and grabs her. It's grasp pulls her from her feet, tightening around her upper pillar. She winces in pain, the tree above her creaking. Frantically, she slips from it's grasp. A ring of blood outlines where the branch had circled her leg. Wincing in pain, she attempts to put weight on it, only to be jostled the other way. Another tree grasps the girl, this time, around her barrel. The bark digs in to her pelt, almost becoming like a razor, slicing her skin with ease. She tries to scream, she tries to shriek, but it's all cut of by yet another branch, grasping her neck, another leg, two more around her barrel. She's a bloody sight, the scar from the Wraith she had been given broken open and gushing. Blood drips to the forest floor... She is losing strength quickly... Then, what? They all subside. They give her a chance. She scrambles up, tripping over one of the evil things, she goes head over heels, falling onto her back and tall withers with a grunt of pain. As quickly as she can, she rolls to her side, her peripheral vision spotting more branches reaching out. She wastes no time, and spurts into a clumsy gallop. She runs out of the forest, a loud call escapes her.
"RUN WHILE YOU CAN!"
|
|
Credits
 
lines
please tag me in any and all posts
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
