Not A Care In The World [Flapjack]

[Velnias]

Amylia

So what? Maybe I didn't care anymore. Yep, that was it. Mother would've told me I was too young to stop caring. But maybe I didn't care about that either. Mother was gone, Father was gone, and all my love was gone. Mother was the only one who ever cared about me, really, but I still left. I was restless. She tried to hold me back, but I went away with a notion called 'true love'. True love wasn't mine apparently, and I discovered that very soon. I wished I'd gone someplace else. But I wasn't going to stay at home; I had too much pride for that. So since he beat me and I hardly escaped with my life, I'd run on the edge of it, alone, ever since. And it wasn't all that bad.

I stood next to the water's edge, looking down in it, seeing my reflection on the still surface of the pond. The water was dark, brackish. It made my dun coat look darker than it was. I frowned, splashing my hoof in the water, sending ripples over the surface. I looked up, out over the pond and the willow trees hanging over he water. The forest of the Adoring Peace was lush and thick, perfect for hiding or for hiding someone's thoughts. I think that's what I was doing here. Maybe I was afraid no longer of any of the bad things that could happen, because they'd already happened to me.

I scoffed at the water and flicked my tail. Humming a tune to myself, I left the pond's edge and lay down in the tall grass a few paces away. I rested my head on the ground and looked around. A butterfly landed on a flower near my nose. It was very pretty; Mother often told me how pretty I was, how lovely, kind, petite I was, just like a lady. But comparing myself to this tiny, beautiful creature I couldn't grasp how I was even similar. My tawny coat, smooth as it was, my dark mane and tail, my almond brown eyes. I slowly drifted off to sleep, thinking of Mother and that butterfly, with the sun on my back.

[Deleted]

Sabotage

<sup>Adoring Peace, why such a place? Why such a place when you can’t even speak probably.Hideous Abuse, Hideous Abuse. How could one be so cruel, but to themselves, Hideous Abuse, Hideous. The stallion walked without a care in the world. Nothing could truly happen to him that would make him care. The world was not fond of him, and he, not fond of the world. Nothing good had ever come to him, and he was not sure that anything would. What a hopeless life you live. His crown dipped further, his pale muzzle almost trailing on the earth. His light ears flattened against his gold pelt. And his voice, quiet as a mouse, slurred as a drunk. “Your v-voice. It’s s-so flart. S-so clean.” His voice trembled, words slurred, words stumbled.

And his eyes, pale brown they were, darted between the trees, and then flew high up to see the colourful birds that played in the leaves. Sleek golden lids lowered, leaving just sparkles of brown visible. One could not tell that he could still see, and although he could, his long lashes shadowed his eyes in a blur. His eyes darted between the trees still; he would seem much more relaxed to a stranger than he had before. But truly, he was worse. It usually happened like this, his bodice would once be tense, just minutes before his muscles relaxed and his lids lowered, but it was just the start, just the start before his muscles became stiff, and his legs like tree stumps. His lids would open and his eyes would roll, enough so you could see his whites. His back would become curved and his hooves would flash in the air. He did this when he became threatened, when he felt danger.

Truly, he did feel danger. But not one that threatened him, one that threatened his senses. Her scent through his senses into overdrive. His nostrils became infected with her smell, his eyes straining to see her, his ears pricked, wanting one word, just a sound even. He wasn’t familiar with this type of thing. Never had he experienced it. He just wanted to see the femme. The stallion took close to the tree line but he was near the waterhole now and would not be able to hide for long. Soon enough he would have to emerge. And what would happen then. His body would go mental. Every part of him telling him to run, to seek a hideaway, to seek familiarity. but his heart would tell him different as always. It would beat faster and faster still. But all the while, it would tell him to remain calm, assess the situation at hand, and work out the smartest thing to do. The best thing to do.

Usually he ran, ran away from the thing he was frightened of. Ran away from his troubles. Ran away from those who bullied him because of his slur, because of his stumble. Ran because it was what he had always done, it was what he had always done to keep from trouble, to keep from that stallion that had almost killed him. To keep from the murderous mares and stallions that surrounded him at the water hole. That crept in the shadows of the forest. That crept in his shadows. A tiny shiver ran down his spine, like icy fingertips. His shadows, they were his shadows. It seemed he had crept into a small problem. Without realising, he had stepped beyond the tree line, into open space. His rump was barely out of the trees, leaves shadowing his muscles buttocks. But he was still out of the trees. And in view of the mare he had smelt.

She was a pretty mare, a pelt of light dun, with shiny black tassels. She should be called Grullo, but truly, there would never be a name for such her pretty colour. Her face was the same colour, pretty it was too. No markings settled over it and it was as clean as a golden platter in a chef’s kitchen. Her eyes were hidden by her ebon lids. Her muzzle was coloured in a deep grey, which slowly drifted into dark black. She was asleep though, and he didn’t want to startle her. The stallion’s deep eyes swept over her, her bodice rose and fell with each shallow breath, her mane fluttered in the small wind. He didn’t approach her, though he would’ve liked to. With her being asleep, it meant that he wouldn’t have to speak, just watch. But he scowled and did what he should do. He nickered lightly, before again, this time his nicker was deeper, more wanting. His leg awkwardly rose, before curving and creating a small crater in the earth. Now, he waited. Waited for her to wake.

OOC – Sorry it took me so long.</sup>

[Velnias]

The stickiness that stuck to the inside of my eyes made me uncomfortable. I chewed on the cold air, waking myself up when I breathed it in, inhaling deeply. Sleepily, my eyelids fluttered open. Oh, I forgot, I thought to myself. Whare was I? I don't care anymore? That seems nearly right. I blinked, smelling the smells of the forest. They were sweet and soft and...wait a minute...strong? I jerked my head up, suddenly awake. I was now aware there was an equine standing a few hoof strides away from me, his eyes pouring over me like liquid. They weren't the burning kind, just the soft, caressing, alluring kind. The kind that made sure I knew they were there, though I had the feeling they hadn't meant to wake me up.

"What--" I started, my voice startled and accusatory. "What are you doing?" My voice changed once my eyes had a chance to gaze over his. It was my first instinct now to look at their face, their eyes, their soul. Not their body, that could do such harm to you if it really wanted. Once I said it with a hint of gentleness, of curiosity, I let my eyes wander over the stallion's smooth back, strong legs and chest. He was golden, the color of sunshine. Something rare and handsome, about as much like my soft silken coat, that was something undefined; it didn't really fit into a color sphere. I was my own young soul. And he could be his. Though I'd let my eyes wander, I pulled them back to his face now, unwilling to let them stray further. Besides, that sort of fatal attraction had gotten me in too much trouble the last -and the only- time I let it get ahold of me.

I lowered my velvet muzzle to the level with the grasses' roots, their green stalks shooting up in my face and tickling my slim felt cheeks. I rested my chin on the cooled ground and watched two birds in a tree in the forest around us dart around each other, twittering, and flitting their wings. One of them stopped and stared at me a moment before continuing his little game. Hummingbirds. I smiled, then replaced the look with my expressionless mask. I pursed my lips, deep in silent thought for a moment. Without looking at him, I blurted out, "I suppose what I'm saying will sound awfully strange. But really, it's only awkward if you make it." I blinked, letting my eyes linger shut for a moment, imagining what it would be like to go back to sleep. To rest quietly without distractions. Oh, well. Time to get up now. I shivered my skin where it was thinnest on my neck and lifted my head all the way this time, propping up my foreleg with the other tucked under my chest. I looked at the horse again.

I suppose he wasn't the big hopeless romantic, chivalrous type either, because he still hadn't asked my name yet. But maybe he was just shy, or didn't talk much. Well, welcome to the club, buddy. Although I wasn't really shy, I just preferred not to talk sometimes. I was very guarded. Though he didn't seem like the type who was one to guard myself against. What a relief, really. I cleared my throat softly, remembering I had pointed out I was going to speak earlier and hadn't finished. "Well, what now? I haven't talked to anybody in days. Sure, I've met others, but..." I paused, "...but I, honest to gods, think all social standards are slipping these days. Or is it just me?" Maybe it was. But I'd met some pretty off-the-rocker goonies lately. This time, I heeded Mother's advice and steered clear. But, as I'd always be reminding myself, it was really too late for that, because Mother was gone.