Post by Beaded ¤ on Jan 7, 2006 18:40:30 GMT -5
wake up kids
Distant cries echoed over the sparse forest. A young sparrow flitted towards it, chirping quietly. It landed on a long branch stretching across a clearing, looking down below at what seemed to be a chestnut lump. It chirped questioningly, scooting over farther to get a better look. It chirped once more, before flying off at another sob. The mare looked up, teary-eyed. She laid by something, something that looked dead. It was another littler lump, nothing more. The color of it was a dark chestnut, as if it was wet. Beaded nudged it, huddling closer to the lump. It remained the way it was. The swallow fell through the air, pecking at Beaded's forehead. It chirped happily, zooming back up to the branch to watch. The mare looked up, smiling despite what had just happened during the last few hours. She tossed her head, laying where she was. She couldn't leave its side. Never.
.
Beaded stared at the empty space that was Indira. Its lord had left, taking the lady along with it. Zodiac and Lyta, both gone. She tossed her head uneasily. It was not good, for both of them to be gone. No, it wasn't. She snorted, backing up. It was a bad omen. She had best get out of there. Beaded paused for a moment. What if they came back and found her missing? Oh well. She was leaving. She whirled around, kicking up sand in her midst. At a heavily placed canter, Beaded took herself away from peaceful Indira, her former home. Now what? She lengthened into a full-fledged gallop, going past happy Astarte where Sept roamed with three new mares. Past the other regions. Past the lands. She came closer and closer to the sparse forest when something alerted her attention. Another bad omen. The worst. Buzzards.
Her pulse quickened as she slowed, staring at the circling black birds. Beaded tossed her head, resisting the urge to investigate. She grunted, trying to decide. Yes. She pushed herself forward, forcing herself to go look. The buzzards' shadows passed over her as she walked into their circle. She saw what was dead, or half-dead at least. A little dark chestnut foal, clearly abandoned and in desperate need of care. It was so small. Beaded stared at it, watching it squirm a little. She walked closer, poking at it with her muzzle. It fell still. Beaded grunted, retracting her head. Well? Had it died? A sparrow flew by, pulling part of her mane in its talons. Beaded stumbled forward, taking care not to step on the poor thing. She noticed a white blaze down its head. She nudged it again. The foal opened its saucer-like eyes, staring at Beaded. They were a crystal blue.
Beaded began to recognize distinct white patches on the foal's hide. It was a paint..? Maybe. She couldn't tell. Besides, it was only a child. Beaded smiled at it. Hello. She murmured, licking one of its fuzzy ears. The foal made a squeaking sound, trying to get closer to her warm body. She now noticed how frigid the poor thing was. Beaded gasped, bringing herself closer. Who would leave this foal in such a position. She began to lick over its body like a good mother, tenderly caressing the poor foal's cold skin. It became animated as it got warmer, trying to lick Beaded back with its small pink tongue. Beaded smiled, slowly getting up from her laying position. The foal made no move to get up, however. It just laid there, looking up at Beaded.
Worried that the buzzards were getting closer and tighter in their circling, Beaded picked the small foal up by the scruff of its neck with ease and carrying it into the sparse forest, away from there. The foal remained quiet the entire trip. Beaded became worried. Was it dead, finally? This poor creature who had only a few hours to experience. Saddening, too, that it had not a mother nor father for it look upon. She came to the clearing, gently setting down the foal. It squirmed a bit when being placed on the ground, opening its eyes and looking up at Beaded. She smiled, nudging it. Then, its eyes closed. She frowned, tears welling in her eyes. Now, the end had come. Surely it had. She began to cry openly, laying down by the foal. It was such a horrible thing to waste, life. She was shaken, that she had tried to care for this foal and had only made everything worse. Now, it was dead. She huddled over it defensively. No one would come near. Her cries began to echo.
.
Beaded's eyes fluttered open. She looked at the mass beside her. Its eyes were open too. She let out a sigh of relief. Then squealed happily. It was alive! The foal was alive! It whinnied squeakily, looking up at Beaded adoringly. Oh.. She blinked. You don't have a name, poor baby. She smiled, nudging it. Or a gender. She frowned, unfamiliar with the whole foal thing. Beaded got up, pushing the foal over. It rolled, squealing joyously. She giggled. It was so cute. She checked twice. A colt. Beaded blinked. The paint colt got up on his gangly legs, falling after a few seconds. Beaded giggled again, helping him up. Hrm. She mused after a bit of thought, watching the colt shake as he attempted to stay on his feet. You do need a name.. She looked away for a moment, taking in the green settings. When she looked back, the colt had fallen in a heap. Beaded grinned, putting her muzzle underneath his chest and lifting him up.
Nothing seemed good enough for him, really. She thought of Retact, Tye, and Poll. But none of them seemed to fit. She thought some more, watching the colt warily as he investigated a bush. There was Flame, Rone, Weary, and Que. But none of them fit either. He was just unnameable. No horse is unnameable. I mean, look at me. Beaded fits me perfectly. I think. She frowned, watching him once more as he pranced around the clearing with his head up. He had a stocky build, like that of an quarter horse. Almost like her. He was handsome, or, he would be in his older years. Beaded nudged him as he pranced on by. He looked back, whickering and clearly enjoying himself. And he would have died if I hadn't have saved him. She felt a surge of goodness run through her. Nothing compared to this. And now. He had to have a name. Beaded frowned, deep in thought. The paint colt rushed over to her, butting her with his head. She ignored him. Not now dear. Dear. Deer. Beaded brightened. That could be his name. Prongs. Prongs. That'll be what I'm gonna call you, kay? She looked down at him. Prongs whinnied, bobbing his head. His big eyes looked into hers before he bounded away, expecting a chase. Beaded smirked, reminded of how dead he had seemed before and how alive he was now. That was amazing. Prongs whinnied throatily, getting up on his hind legs and waving his spindly front ones. Beaded walked after him and he butted her again. She nipped at his spikey mane. He whinnied happily, before collapsing in exhaustion. Beaded nickered, nudging him into a more comfortable position. Who could blame him? He was tired. She looked around the forest, standing guard over her little adopted son, Prongs.
we've got the dreamer's disease
[-coughs- no idea where this came from. i would also like to introduce prongs, beaded's adopted colt. sorry zodiac and lyta, but nobody was replying there, so i left. ><]
Distant cries echoed over the sparse forest. A young sparrow flitted towards it, chirping quietly. It landed on a long branch stretching across a clearing, looking down below at what seemed to be a chestnut lump. It chirped questioningly, scooting over farther to get a better look. It chirped once more, before flying off at another sob. The mare looked up, teary-eyed. She laid by something, something that looked dead. It was another littler lump, nothing more. The color of it was a dark chestnut, as if it was wet. Beaded nudged it, huddling closer to the lump. It remained the way it was. The swallow fell through the air, pecking at Beaded's forehead. It chirped happily, zooming back up to the branch to watch. The mare looked up, smiling despite what had just happened during the last few hours. She tossed her head, laying where she was. She couldn't leave its side. Never.
.
Beaded stared at the empty space that was Indira. Its lord had left, taking the lady along with it. Zodiac and Lyta, both gone. She tossed her head uneasily. It was not good, for both of them to be gone. No, it wasn't. She snorted, backing up. It was a bad omen. She had best get out of there. Beaded paused for a moment. What if they came back and found her missing? Oh well. She was leaving. She whirled around, kicking up sand in her midst. At a heavily placed canter, Beaded took herself away from peaceful Indira, her former home. Now what? She lengthened into a full-fledged gallop, going past happy Astarte where Sept roamed with three new mares. Past the other regions. Past the lands. She came closer and closer to the sparse forest when something alerted her attention. Another bad omen. The worst. Buzzards.
Her pulse quickened as she slowed, staring at the circling black birds. Beaded tossed her head, resisting the urge to investigate. She grunted, trying to decide. Yes. She pushed herself forward, forcing herself to go look. The buzzards' shadows passed over her as she walked into their circle. She saw what was dead, or half-dead at least. A little dark chestnut foal, clearly abandoned and in desperate need of care. It was so small. Beaded stared at it, watching it squirm a little. She walked closer, poking at it with her muzzle. It fell still. Beaded grunted, retracting her head. Well? Had it died? A sparrow flew by, pulling part of her mane in its talons. Beaded stumbled forward, taking care not to step on the poor thing. She noticed a white blaze down its head. She nudged it again. The foal opened its saucer-like eyes, staring at Beaded. They were a crystal blue.
Beaded began to recognize distinct white patches on the foal's hide. It was a paint..? Maybe. She couldn't tell. Besides, it was only a child. Beaded smiled at it. Hello. She murmured, licking one of its fuzzy ears. The foal made a squeaking sound, trying to get closer to her warm body. She now noticed how frigid the poor thing was. Beaded gasped, bringing herself closer. Who would leave this foal in such a position. She began to lick over its body like a good mother, tenderly caressing the poor foal's cold skin. It became animated as it got warmer, trying to lick Beaded back with its small pink tongue. Beaded smiled, slowly getting up from her laying position. The foal made no move to get up, however. It just laid there, looking up at Beaded.
Worried that the buzzards were getting closer and tighter in their circling, Beaded picked the small foal up by the scruff of its neck with ease and carrying it into the sparse forest, away from there. The foal remained quiet the entire trip. Beaded became worried. Was it dead, finally? This poor creature who had only a few hours to experience. Saddening, too, that it had not a mother nor father for it look upon. She came to the clearing, gently setting down the foal. It squirmed a bit when being placed on the ground, opening its eyes and looking up at Beaded. She smiled, nudging it. Then, its eyes closed. She frowned, tears welling in her eyes. Now, the end had come. Surely it had. She began to cry openly, laying down by the foal. It was such a horrible thing to waste, life. She was shaken, that she had tried to care for this foal and had only made everything worse. Now, it was dead. She huddled over it defensively. No one would come near. Her cries began to echo.
.
Beaded's eyes fluttered open. She looked at the mass beside her. Its eyes were open too. She let out a sigh of relief. Then squealed happily. It was alive! The foal was alive! It whinnied squeakily, looking up at Beaded adoringly. Oh.. She blinked. You don't have a name, poor baby. She smiled, nudging it. Or a gender. She frowned, unfamiliar with the whole foal thing. Beaded got up, pushing the foal over. It rolled, squealing joyously. She giggled. It was so cute. She checked twice. A colt. Beaded blinked. The paint colt got up on his gangly legs, falling after a few seconds. Beaded giggled again, helping him up. Hrm. She mused after a bit of thought, watching the colt shake as he attempted to stay on his feet. You do need a name.. She looked away for a moment, taking in the green settings. When she looked back, the colt had fallen in a heap. Beaded grinned, putting her muzzle underneath his chest and lifting him up.
Nothing seemed good enough for him, really. She thought of Retact, Tye, and Poll. But none of them seemed to fit. She thought some more, watching the colt warily as he investigated a bush. There was Flame, Rone, Weary, and Que. But none of them fit either. He was just unnameable. No horse is unnameable. I mean, look at me. Beaded fits me perfectly. I think. She frowned, watching him once more as he pranced around the clearing with his head up. He had a stocky build, like that of an quarter horse. Almost like her. He was handsome, or, he would be in his older years. Beaded nudged him as he pranced on by. He looked back, whickering and clearly enjoying himself. And he would have died if I hadn't have saved him. She felt a surge of goodness run through her. Nothing compared to this. And now. He had to have a name. Beaded frowned, deep in thought. The paint colt rushed over to her, butting her with his head. She ignored him. Not now dear. Dear. Deer. Beaded brightened. That could be his name. Prongs. Prongs. That'll be what I'm gonna call you, kay? She looked down at him. Prongs whinnied, bobbing his head. His big eyes looked into hers before he bounded away, expecting a chase. Beaded smirked, reminded of how dead he had seemed before and how alive he was now. That was amazing. Prongs whinnied throatily, getting up on his hind legs and waving his spindly front ones. Beaded walked after him and he butted her again. She nipped at his spikey mane. He whinnied happily, before collapsing in exhaustion. Beaded nickered, nudging him into a more comfortable position. Who could blame him? He was tired. She looked around the forest, standing guard over her little adopted son, Prongs.
we've got the dreamer's disease
[-coughs- no idea where this came from. i would also like to introduce prongs, beaded's adopted colt. sorry zodiac and lyta, but nobody was replying there, so i left. ><]
