05-04-2017, 11:40 AM
It was easy for Baylen to hate how small he was.
He was a burro, after all, but the rocks seemed especially large today. The equine's hooves scraped at the rocks in grueling battle as he heaved himself onto the next ledge. Baylen's eyes scanned below himself, making his stomach sick. He was high in the air, crawling across the span of a cliff by the sea near Pangea.
This was the daily life of the few inhabitants of those cliffs. But alas, Baylen's body was ''suited'' for the work, the constant battle for a clump of grass nestled between some high rocks. But as ''suited'' as he was, Baylen was fed up. He needed a place for fresh grass, and sunshine.
And no more sea-mist ... Baylen grumbled to himself, as a huge wave hit the rocks, and cold sprinkles coated his coat.
The donkey gave a miserable sigh. He lifted his leg to take another step, when he slipped. Rough rocks buried into his belly as he slid down a distance, before he caught himself. Baylen rushed up the rocks as fast as he could, until he reached the top. His sides heaved. He became aware of his surroundings. Baylen could hear the blood roaring in his ears.
He was done. Done with the struggle of the land, done with the constant climbing and looking for food.
Baylen looked east, his ivory coat glimmering gold against the silver stormy sky.
-----
It was even easier to hate being short when you were traveling across the continent.
Baylen's legs ached, but were decently stronger since three months ago. He had seen a lot on his journey; mountains, beaches, small lakes, big lakes, rivers, and taiga. Now he was so, so close to his destination.
The Fields. The burro had heard from a horse that the fields were plentiful of grass, and not too aggressive.
Well ... to horses anyways ... it should be fine. The big brown horse had considered.
I hope you are right, Baylen had replied, because I am tired of lies.
One lie had brought him close to death. He had asked a group of young stallions were a good place to rest was, and they had directed him to a cave, were he was almost mauled by a bear.
Baylen pushed those thoughts aside as he trotted long a well-worn path through some thin forest.
Birds chirped happily in the trees, and the sun peered through the light-gold leaves of the aspens. Their thin white-and-black trunks reminded Baylen of a zebra, running until it's legs blurred.
He shook his head as a fly buzzed unto his eye, half annoyed, half encouraged.
Where there were flies; there were horses.
As the minutes passed, the thin aspens grew thinner, and sparser. The land started to slant upwards, and forest made way for lush, green grass. The sun welcomed Baylen with open arms, and rays of light seemed to be pulling him closer. He started into a full out burro 'gallop', braying excitedly. He could smell the scent of other equines.
Baylen crested the hill, and halted in amazement.
Grass and horses spread out almost as far as he could see. It was ended by far-away rocky hills.
A pond and a small creek was not too far away, and several horses were wading through it, or drinking.
It was paradise, other then an air on uncertainty. A longing feeling, like a horse waiting for rain.
Baylen noticed the horses nipping at each other often, and integrating carelessly. All these equines were herdless.
No matter, Baylen thought, I don't even need a herd. I've lived without one all my life.
That was a lie. The burro had been hoping to find others like him, or maybe just a horse herd ...
He shook himself indignantly. No sour thoughts today. He'd deal with that later, but for now, he would enjoy himself.
Baylen sunk into the ground, and rolled, covering himself with dust and dirt. His legs bobbed in the air as he wiggled around. He sneezed and stood up again, ready to eat a bite.
Baylen's mouth tugged at the lush green grass, and he had to remind himself to pace. He moved like a zipper through the Field, mowing down the grass.
The day streaked by quickly.
He was a burro, after all, but the rocks seemed especially large today. The equine's hooves scraped at the rocks in grueling battle as he heaved himself onto the next ledge. Baylen's eyes scanned below himself, making his stomach sick. He was high in the air, crawling across the span of a cliff by the sea near Pangea.
This was the daily life of the few inhabitants of those cliffs. But alas, Baylen's body was ''suited'' for the work, the constant battle for a clump of grass nestled between some high rocks. But as ''suited'' as he was, Baylen was fed up. He needed a place for fresh grass, and sunshine.
And no more sea-mist ... Baylen grumbled to himself, as a huge wave hit the rocks, and cold sprinkles coated his coat.
The donkey gave a miserable sigh. He lifted his leg to take another step, when he slipped. Rough rocks buried into his belly as he slid down a distance, before he caught himself. Baylen rushed up the rocks as fast as he could, until he reached the top. His sides heaved. He became aware of his surroundings. Baylen could hear the blood roaring in his ears.
He was done. Done with the struggle of the land, done with the constant climbing and looking for food.
Baylen looked east, his ivory coat glimmering gold against the silver stormy sky.
-----
It was even easier to hate being short when you were traveling across the continent.
Baylen's legs ached, but were decently stronger since three months ago. He had seen a lot on his journey; mountains, beaches, small lakes, big lakes, rivers, and taiga. Now he was so, so close to his destination.
The Fields. The burro had heard from a horse that the fields were plentiful of grass, and not too aggressive.
Well ... to horses anyways ... it should be fine. The big brown horse had considered.
I hope you are right, Baylen had replied, because I am tired of lies.
One lie had brought him close to death. He had asked a group of young stallions were a good place to rest was, and they had directed him to a cave, were he was almost mauled by a bear.
Baylen pushed those thoughts aside as he trotted long a well-worn path through some thin forest.
Birds chirped happily in the trees, and the sun peered through the light-gold leaves of the aspens. Their thin white-and-black trunks reminded Baylen of a zebra, running until it's legs blurred.
He shook his head as a fly buzzed unto his eye, half annoyed, half encouraged.
Where there were flies; there were horses.
As the minutes passed, the thin aspens grew thinner, and sparser. The land started to slant upwards, and forest made way for lush, green grass. The sun welcomed Baylen with open arms, and rays of light seemed to be pulling him closer. He started into a full out burro 'gallop', braying excitedly. He could smell the scent of other equines.
Baylen crested the hill, and halted in amazement.
Grass and horses spread out almost as far as he could see. It was ended by far-away rocky hills.
A pond and a small creek was not too far away, and several horses were wading through it, or drinking.
It was paradise, other then an air on uncertainty. A longing feeling, like a horse waiting for rain.
Baylen noticed the horses nipping at each other often, and integrating carelessly. All these equines were herdless.
No matter, Baylen thought, I don't even need a herd. I've lived without one all my life.
That was a lie. The burro had been hoping to find others like him, or maybe just a horse herd ...
He shook himself indignantly. No sour thoughts today. He'd deal with that later, but for now, he would enjoy himself.
Baylen sunk into the ground, and rolled, covering himself with dust and dirt. His legs bobbed in the air as he wiggled around. He sneezed and stood up again, ready to eat a bite.
Baylen's mouth tugged at the lush green grass, and he had to remind himself to pace. He moved like a zipper through the Field, mowing down the grass.
The day streaked by quickly.