Nitika shook out her long mane as a wonderful spring breeze brushed against her. Her now fully-shed white and brown coat shimmered in the sun's rays. The small brown marking between and covering her ears stood out proudly against her otherwise white coat, and that was something the mare was proud of.
She didn't care if she was different; she was proud to be. She'd often heard from her mother that her father had been a horse with her markings, but that Nitika had inherited her coat color from her mother. The fact she had received such traits from her parents made the young mare proud.
She let out a happy neigh as she continued to gallop through the field grass, absently gazing at the various mares and their foals that lived here. Like many times before, she had approached a few to see if she could make friends, but like many herds in the past, they'd chased her away with hooves flying, not wanting this strange colored horse near them.
Again, Nitika still didn't know why she was viewed as such a bad omen. She had coloring that wasn't that common, so what? It didn't mean she was bad luck or anything. In fact, she dared say she was good luck, considering that as a two-year-old a rainstorm had started at just the right time for her to get out of the canyon and escape the claws of the mountain lions that had been chasing her.
But, well, that's not how everyone else saw her. In Nitika's eyes, that was fine; she didn't want to, or need to be, accepted if everyone else wished to single her out. It just meant that they were as shallow as a mountain stream.
Keeping her distance as she ran past another group of mares, the paint decided that, after she finished her run, she'd find some quiet place to graze and then go rest among the trees, get used to this new place that would probably become her home from now on.
That is, if nobody chased her out first.
(Nitika is free to be claimed or approached by a kingdom horse)
She didn't care if she was different; she was proud to be. She'd often heard from her mother that her father had been a horse with her markings, but that Nitika had inherited her coat color from her mother. The fact she had received such traits from her parents made the young mare proud.
She let out a happy neigh as she continued to gallop through the field grass, absently gazing at the various mares and their foals that lived here. Like many times before, she had approached a few to see if she could make friends, but like many herds in the past, they'd chased her away with hooves flying, not wanting this strange colored horse near them.
Again, Nitika still didn't know why she was viewed as such a bad omen. She had coloring that wasn't that common, so what? It didn't mean she was bad luck or anything. In fact, she dared say she was good luck, considering that as a two-year-old a rainstorm had started at just the right time for her to get out of the canyon and escape the claws of the mountain lions that had been chasing her.
But, well, that's not how everyone else saw her. In Nitika's eyes, that was fine; she didn't want to, or need to be, accepted if everyone else wished to single her out. It just meant that they were as shallow as a mountain stream.
Keeping her distance as she ran past another group of mares, the paint decided that, after she finished her run, she'd find some quiet place to graze and then go rest among the trees, get used to this new place that would probably become her home from now on.
That is, if nobody chased her out first.
(Nitika is free to be claimed or approached by a kingdom horse)