"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Galloping for days and weeks trying to escape the life she once lived. What she did still haunted her, she was sweaty and nose flaring as she skidded to a hault in the middle of an open field. She was used to be run into the ground so she was used to running for a while. She snorted when she came to a stop. When she slide to a stop dust kicked up and dirt hitting her front legs which stung alittle but she got over it fairly easily. She raised her head to the winter sun, she was in new surroundings where she has never been to before.
Her Blue roan pelt was went from sweat. It felt good to be free especially from where she came from. She looked around seeing the mountains and the plains and the beach. This looked like a good place to stay for a while until she was kicked out again or hurt someone and got scared and ran away. She started to day dream back to the ranch, seeing her handler putting a halter on her thinking she was going to work which she loved alot. She was a rodeo barrel racing star, so working was her favorite, and it gave her a chance to be with her human. Well racing become less and less and thats when more and more strangers would show up at the ranch i was at. My human would put me in a small paddock so people could come and stare at me. Mystic always saw her human talking to people and shaking hands, then a few days new trailers would show up at her door. She would be lead to a small barn which smelled funny. She couldnt figure out what it was, but she was forced to stand and let a strange stallion sniff her and touch her. Mystic refused to let another stallion touch her unless they were in love. She finally figured out that her human was trying to get money by breeding Mystic to stallions in trying to get foals out of her. One day before she ran off, she was taken to the the same small barn, she knew what was coming. She flew back rearing and screaming, in doing so her human landed in the dirt breaking her arm. Mystic took off feeling ashamed to misbehave which was not like her. She was scared and ran into the wilderness.
Here she was all alone in this strange new place. Would she finally find the one that she would finally let him touch her? Would this be the place where she has her babies? Do the stallions here have what it takes to win her over?
I am a walking deception, a lie on four legs. Every inch of my fibre is a misfortune of the truth. Young-minded and innocent I had started my life out with a generously harsh truth. the world did not take kindly to you, you were not wanted and by know means did you get handed silver spoons and golden forks. The moment I entered this world, golden thread and ivory tapestry, I was a walking contradiction. I could cast one look and have many stop in their tracks, like some enticing geisha, I could take down an army with but a single well-placed smile. My problem? Of course it was the beauty, the long willowy legs, the well sinewy stature beneath my almost glowing gloss of gold. I am all of this, but I am more, I have brought down those very men, a saccharine smile may have drawn them near but it was my poisonous bite, my alluring song that entrap them in the bittersweet kiss of death. Like some black widow, entice them in, upon a lure, so elegant, graceful and beauty personified, then you just take it all away with one single lullaby.
But something has changed, like threads, so fine and slender, it has snapped and with it I have fallen into the weak boughs of the chamber; it's heart beating in unison with my own. Now, I am different. A touch of magic, somehow, somewhere, it has inked my skin like tarnished blood. Deep burgundy, blood red limbs, still elegant, still swift. Ebony locks cascading down my willowy neck. But now, I dance to a whole different tune. And this dance, of moss and earth and rich wintry scents upon the wind, takes me towards the field. To aid the chamber, to aid my home, I must be active. It has captured my heart, the dead beating organ, and I see no inch of the lady chamber giving it back to me. Thus, I earn my place to stay within her confines. And home indeed it is.
The winter air is crisp, the chill going bone deep, numbing the marrow of my core, as I step out from the spindly pathway from the chamber, and into the field. Azure eyes drink in the view. The field is ripe with what would be seen as fresh fruit, lives ready for picking, ready to pluck from the tree of indecision and fall into the hands of those that knew what they wanted and where to go. My long limbs take my body, a mismatch of what I'm used to, through the shadowy path until I break out from the shadows and into the field itself. Moss and dirt cake me, a whole new skin. I inhale the sweet smells of winter, the new scents of strangers. and one in particular catches my eye. There is nowhere accompanying her, thus gives me a chance. I swan over, elegant and grace, even with needles of pine and remnants of pinecones braided into my mane, looks more like a disheveled feral mess, but a beauty all the same. it is just different.
'Greetings. I am Engelsfors, of the Chamber. Who might you be?' I pause, my azure gaze finding all the nooks and crannies on the strange blue mare. She is worn, muscles aching, I can feel it, I can see it. I was always one for reading others well. Call it a glorious little trait. 'You look as though you have travelled a fair way. The Chamber can offer you shelter from the coming winter spell, if you so desire.'
Her legs were wobbly like a newborn. They Shook like an earthquake, Her legs gave out on her and she fell to the ground from exhaustion. This wasnt her she was ashamed of herself, maybe she pushed herself too hard? Shes never collapsed like this. She got the smell of company and she hurried to her legs but her legs were not working. She didnt want to look weak to her company. She forced herself to her legs but stumbled because of her weakness. The stranger talked to her. Offering her a home, could she handle another home what if she hurt someone?
She bowed her head to the strangers offer. My name is Mystic Pleasure. or Mystic for short. She slowly moved towards her company to show her interest. She was well muscled and condition but her legs were exhausted and she was exhausted. I would enjoy a new home thank you. She said with tired eyes. She figured anything would be better then where she came from. Maybe a new home will allow her to escape her past.
On closer inspections the blue roan was more worn and weary than I had thought; the cold winds that bit with razor sharp teeth, was not the kindest of weathers to be weathering in. I stepped closer, worn feet sinking in the soft earth beneath. Ears twiddling, listening. My eyes trailed over her, noting the sinews, well proportioned. Worn yet weary. Fatigue could be well rested, I was certain, but could this mare offer something to the chamber in return for letting her rest up in the confines of the trees. I offered a debonair smile, silver and spun gold, even on my newly adopted facade of deep blood burgundy. 'Mystic. Pleasure, I'm sure.' an incline of my crown, ever so gently. I was brought up well, and kept all my manners in check, it was a habit, a habit that would die with me and possibly crawl out from the grave, and thank those burying me. A cool, crisp smile replaced my debonair folly. 'We have towering pines, a brilliant fortress from not only the elements. It is not far off the trail here, perhaps then we can talk, out of the vastness.' I watch her, curious. Ink blue skin a contrast against the ivory starting to blanket the fields. I step forward, young eyes still curious and curious in their stare and make up of the mare. I closed nearer her, extending a muzzle, breathing her in; strange scents, foreign and unknown meet me and a shiver runs down every notch in my spine. 'You have been through much, Mystic. Scars can build character, you know.' I tried to make light, I was unsure why. This new persona, softer, even a little more sensitive. I wondered when it had ben ignited. I stepped away, pushing aside the boughs of the trees and lifting a leg to part the crumbling brush. 'The Chamber is this way, if you do wish to follow.'
The silver girl was well versed in trust issues. Between the disappearance of her father and the howl of the beast inside her head it wasn't surprising that she didn't let others get close. Tyrna was as wild as they came these days. Always one hoof in the forest. Still her heart belonged to the Falls. The peaceful place that soothed old hurts and calmed frayed nerves. She knows she has been slacking in her duties to the neutral kingdom and that's what drives her feet forward.
She enters the field with more confidence than she's felt in days. Spending time near the healing waters has quieted the wolf and allowed her to relax. has been a little while since she last visited the field. Her last attempt with Smother was fresh after a change and it left her reeling and detached from reality. Now she was prepared and eager to prove her worth.
Tyrna wanders around the field for quite some time passing clusters of horses by. Some are chatting quietly to themselves, some are surrounded by recruiters. None of them are quite what she is looking for. After some time she spots a blue mare slathered in sweat and standing quietly on her own. It peaks the silver girls interest so she turns in that direction. She is beaten to the blue by an unnaturally red mare who reeks of ash and pine. The signature of the chamber. The competition only makes her more determined as Tyrna approaches the pair.
She is all tarnished silver and moonlight. Her pale mane, tangled by the wind and trees, drapes against her dark neck while her tail swats her sides. Traces of the sky twine up her strong, pale legs matching her piercing blue eyes. There is a wild look about her but she moves with the grace of her spanish ancestry. Tyrna plasters on a charming smile as she sidles up to the pair. She nods in greeting to the red mare before turning her attention towards the newcomer.
"Hello, my name is Tyrna. I come from the Falls. Tell me, what are you looking for here? The Falls has a lot to offer those that seek a new home."
She stood strong following her new leader to her new home. She hated looking like this she had more to proove. And more to show this was her first time outside in the wild. She had always had someone to care for her. But things were going to change, she wasnt going to let alittle weakness get in her way of happiness. Please lead the way. She lowered her nose looking in the direction she was pointing. The winter was covering the ground with a white blanket. It was getting colder she shook off the white dust that had fallen on her back. As they head towards the the chamber.
Im sorry this is not who i am. Im alot stronger then this. She was worried that she would make the chance for a new home get in the way if she looks weak.
