10-27-2016, 12:17 AM
some kind of quote here
Large hooves crunch over the forest earth and Terra’s dark brown eyes swing about, quickly coming to rest on a massive horse that had been previously hidden in the shadows. She feels one brief stab of panic (he’s so big), before shoving it down and letting out another low growl. In her first few days here she’d quickly learned not to trust the other creatures roaming the woods.
But the large, dark head leans closer, whuffling softly and she freezes as the hot air engulfs her muzzle. “Girl.” As the head retreats, the horse’s voice rings out, deep, masculine, commanding. He wants her to come out into the clearing.
She hesitates for a moment. The open is bad, dangerous. There’s no place to hide there, no way to escape. No cocoon of branches and brambles to protect her.
And yet … as unsocialized as she is, some part of her recognizes that he means no harm. And a part deeper still wants, no, needs to reach out. Needs to be saved. Horses are not meant to live on their own as she has been forced to, and her secret heart yearns for someone to take her in.
Her breathing quickens and she steps forward, not stepping until she’s clear of the undergrowth. The moment her rump leaves the safety of the thicket her muscles bunch and tense, ready to spring into flight at a moment’s notice. And yet she stays. Waiting.
Hoping.
But the large, dark head leans closer, whuffling softly and she freezes as the hot air engulfs her muzzle. “Girl.” As the head retreats, the horse’s voice rings out, deep, masculine, commanding. He wants her to come out into the clearing.
She hesitates for a moment. The open is bad, dangerous. There’s no place to hide there, no way to escape. No cocoon of branches and brambles to protect her.
And yet … as unsocialized as she is, some part of her recognizes that he means no harm. And a part deeper still wants, no, needs to reach out. Needs to be saved. Horses are not meant to live on their own as she has been forced to, and her secret heart yearns for someone to take her in.
Her breathing quickens and she steps forward, not stepping until she’s clear of the undergrowth. The moment her rump leaves the safety of the thicket her muscles bunch and tense, ready to spring into flight at a moment’s notice. And yet she stays. Waiting.
Hoping.
TERRA
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