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12-22-2012, 04:40 PM
 A black mustang stood a few feet away from the base of the waterfall. Her name? Insanity. Although her name was one that meant pure craze of the mind, Insanity didn't consider herself to be insane; she thought of herself as quite the opposite. But insane people don't think their insane. The mare gazed at the ever-flowing waterfall, her head held high enough so she extended herself to her full height. Inanity's muscles seemed to ripple underneath her dark coat, although she didn't use them often in her line of work. She tossed her mane to the side as it fell upon her nape in a graceful fashion. She bent her head down to the surface of the water taking a few sips before reaching her muzzle away. As she began to pull her neck back up, she stopped. Her reflection was there, staring back at her as drops of excess water fell from her maw and dropped to the flowing water, distorting the image with even more ripples. She turned away, placing a hoof where her reflection had been in the water. She didn't take joy or pride in her plain looks. She had once been beautiful, and she didn't like being reminded that she wasn't anymore. The night's on fire where is your God?
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