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08-09-2015, 10:46 AM
She was a caged bird with broken wings...
You can't run, not from us.
The pain followed in waves as she heard the voices conclude what she had already thought. They were instant, continuous, and butchering her from the inside out. It was them that got her into this mess in the first place, the same thing that had erupted the ground she walked on into thousands of tiny shards. She hadn't been ready for that. Nobody could have been ready for that. Yet she didn't have to be ready to allow it to happen. She couldn't escape them, yet others could. Lyric was almost certain that if she could, she would leave her presence as well. She was too much, and the stallions within her herd had concluded that it would only get worse with time. The hallucinations were beginning to fall to the front more than reality was, the voices were only getting more demanding with time, and the young mare's emotions were being amplified severely. Her belief was as strong as the disease, believing that soon she will be nothing but a walking nightmare.
What do you think, Lyric? Is she real?
It took her a moment to understand what the voices were talking about until she glanced around. Her pale eyes sought out the figure of a mare, coming forth from the dense trees and into the clearing she was in, and instantly her hesitation grew.Was she real? Her own thoughts were conflicted with reality and the hallucinations, making her stand still within the clearing only to stare at her. She seemed real. In her mind, though, everything seemed real. Her eyes shimmered as she stared at her in what seemed like utter fascination. Even though she was already three years old, she had gained a sense of innocence about the world. Everything through her eyes seemed to appear in the most mystical of ways, a gracefulness about life. Yet now, she wasn't quite sure about the world. The world she had somehow come to love was now filled with hatefulness and bitterness, a side she had never seen outside of her own herd. But as she stared at the mare who approached her within the clearing, her outlook began to change. Her eyes watched as the lips of the mare spoke, yet the words that came out weren't heard. Her thoughts were reeling and turning so fast and abruptly that even she was having trouble understanding what she said. It was a tumble of foggy words, all squished together within her ear canal. Was this a trick of my mind again?
It's always a trick, dearie; a riddle you'll never solve.
Lyric's ears finally caught up with the world, yet as she stared at the mare, her wariness grew. Her questions's a trick as well. While it might have not been true, the young mare still worried for her own safety. Her own herd had taught the mare well not to trust people. With strangers, their intentions were never clear, yet as Lyric contemplated that, her eyes darted to another figure parting the trees, another mare entering into the clearing with unrecognizable intentions.
I'm cornered. Yet her thoughts deceived her just like the intentions of the strangers. Her throat had fallen dry and her ears were flickering back in what seemed like hesitation and fear. Her feet were shuffling upon the ground in hesitation and then there was the subtle flick of her tail. She wasn't quite sure how to address either of them, not when she was horrible at conversation. She had never been addressed when speaking to. Within her herd, there were the silent mares and the stallions who were in charge, nothing more and nothing less. Yet these mares, while not fully boisterous, they were able to speak with no hesitation. Something she wasn't used to.
How do you expect to live in a herd if you can't even speak to them?
For once, she was confused if the voices were her own thoughts. They were so brutally true, so correct that even she was having trouble understanding which one they were before the laughter sounded. She swallowed once again, shaking her head for only a moment before she summed up the courage to speak to the two mares. Maybe it was nothing much more than a few words at a time, yet it was a start for the constantly silent mare.
"I believe assistance isn't needed," Her words were so quiet among the trees, barely spoken to the wind, yet she ached that that would know what she said. She cleared her throat for only a moment before she glanced back at them, meeting their eyes for only a brief moment. "My name is Lyric, and your welcome is appreciated. Yet for the moment, any herd who will accept me will be doing me a favor." Just like the other, her words barely escaped her lips in fear of what they would think of her. Whether her words even mattered upon the stranger's ears.
ooc: Brisa, if that is rusty, I envy you so much. And Elsa, thank you for the welcome, dear! c: Both of you write so well, I'm just sitting here in utter awe and humiliation of how horrid my writing it; thank you both for posting!
