11-16-2017, 04:21 PM
Valensia
Her world changes, literally turning itself upside down. It’s quite an upsetting experience, and something that the young filly isn’t going to let the world get away with. The bleat that bellies in her throat builds and smolders until enough air fills her lungs that she can let it out. It echoes her woes far enough that she is startled by the sounds of her voice. It takes a long moment for her to adjust to the burning sun, and slashes of orange that paint the sky. That’s not all that overwhelms her though. It’s so cold, wet, and just plain nasty out here. Maybe not to the rest of the world, but for Val it’s not something that she is taking in stride. She fills her lungs once more moaning her complaint enough times that the mare behind her nuzzles her clean.
The figure is blurry, and she can’t see the scars that are carved into the mares hide. If only the filly could understand the effort it took for her to stay long enough to give the girl a fighting chance in the world. She wanted nothing to do with the reminder of the monster that had filled her with this. She wanted to escape from this place as soon and as fast as possible. She would feed and clean the foal, but after that… The filly was nothing to her.
The filly blinks up, belly full, skin dry, and her vision somewhat reliant. As her amber gaze darts around looking for the figure that had just nuzzled her into comfort she finds only empty space, and birthing fluids on the grasses near her. This time her nicker is more of a weak question than a complaint. Ears flip around taking in the sounds of the wildlife around her.
As she has a moment to think, things begin to seem a little more sinister, like that bush over there. It grows and sways shivering with a thirst for filly. And the branch that lengthens its claws, grasping to snag her coat so that it can devour her. Or the birds flying from their nest to alert the predators their next meal is available, and oh isn’t she just a tasty morsel. Val tries to brace herself using every muscle in her body to struggle to her hooves. When she does make it, her wings flap at her sides steadying her steps.
Eyes widen, and nares flare in surprise. The additional limbs were not there before… were they? She flares them out fanning herself with them. One is sharp, pointed, and ugly to look at, and the other? Beautiful full feathers black as the deepest night. Her ears warble in confusion as the stump of a tail thumps her hindquarters. What to make of this new development she isn’t sure. What the hell would she do with them anyways? Maybe she could find someone that could tell her.
The figure is blurry, and she can’t see the scars that are carved into the mares hide. If only the filly could understand the effort it took for her to stay long enough to give the girl a fighting chance in the world. She wanted nothing to do with the reminder of the monster that had filled her with this. She wanted to escape from this place as soon and as fast as possible. She would feed and clean the foal, but after that… The filly was nothing to her.
The filly blinks up, belly full, skin dry, and her vision somewhat reliant. As her amber gaze darts around looking for the figure that had just nuzzled her into comfort she finds only empty space, and birthing fluids on the grasses near her. This time her nicker is more of a weak question than a complaint. Ears flip around taking in the sounds of the wildlife around her.
As she has a moment to think, things begin to seem a little more sinister, like that bush over there. It grows and sways shivering with a thirst for filly. And the branch that lengthens its claws, grasping to snag her coat so that it can devour her. Or the birds flying from their nest to alert the predators their next meal is available, and oh isn’t she just a tasty morsel. Val tries to brace herself using every muscle in her body to struggle to her hooves. When she does make it, her wings flap at her sides steadying her steps.
Eyes widen, and nares flare in surprise. The additional limbs were not there before… were they? She flares them out fanning herself with them. One is sharp, pointed, and ugly to look at, and the other? Beautiful full feathers black as the deepest night. Her ears warble in confusion as the stump of a tail thumps her hindquarters. What to make of this new development she isn’t sure. What the hell would she do with them anyways? Maybe she could find someone that could tell her.
“And there was you - your fair self,
always delicately dressed,
with white firm fingers sure of touch
in delicate true work.
I loved you then.”
- Charlotte Gilman
@[Femur]