08-17-2015, 09:36 PM
Her home had long been in the Meadow, and she felt herself safe there.
Her dappled gray coat could often be found in the shadows of the trees watching the lives of others around her. Occasionally she would seek out a partner for conversation but for the most part, Stricken was alone. She preferred it that way.
And then she met him. He was exceptional because his charm confused her. He was unusual because red eyes peered out from his pale white form like a ghost. He drew her in like a spider sets a trap for the unwitting fly. Perhaps she wanted to believe that someone found her lovely, and interesting.
It took only a few steps from the Meadow for him to change from the charmer to the predator. His muscular form took on a sinewy, wolf-like grace, and he began to relentlessly drive her towards unfamiliar lands. Her indignant protests and anger were met with the quick response of his teeth.
By the time the unlikely pair reach the pine trees and the beating heart of the Chamber, Stricken has nearly given up. Her coat is peppered with streaks of blood and she walks with a limp from a well placed kick. The white stallion is on her heels. When he orders her to halt she snorts disdainfully, but does so. A flutter of relief fills her heart as she recognizes the place. She will be a captive, she believes, but perhaps someday she will escape.
She does not know.
"Now what?" her voice is flat, irritated, and with a tendril of fear. "Clearly you brought me here for something. Perhaps I'll have the pleasure of knowing?"
Her flanks shudder with exhaustion, and emotion.
Her dappled gray coat could often be found in the shadows of the trees watching the lives of others around her. Occasionally she would seek out a partner for conversation but for the most part, Stricken was alone. She preferred it that way.
And then she met him. He was exceptional because his charm confused her. He was unusual because red eyes peered out from his pale white form like a ghost. He drew her in like a spider sets a trap for the unwitting fly. Perhaps she wanted to believe that someone found her lovely, and interesting.
It took only a few steps from the Meadow for him to change from the charmer to the predator. His muscular form took on a sinewy, wolf-like grace, and he began to relentlessly drive her towards unfamiliar lands. Her indignant protests and anger were met with the quick response of his teeth.
By the time the unlikely pair reach the pine trees and the beating heart of the Chamber, Stricken has nearly given up. Her coat is peppered with streaks of blood and she walks with a limp from a well placed kick. The white stallion is on her heels. When he orders her to halt she snorts disdainfully, but does so. A flutter of relief fills her heart as she recognizes the place. She will be a captive, she believes, but perhaps someday she will escape.
She does not know.
"Now what?" her voice is flat, irritated, and with a tendril of fear. "Clearly you brought me here for something. Perhaps I'll have the pleasure of knowing?"
Her flanks shudder with exhaustion, and emotion.
Stricken
chosen to die