Who Am I That Disagrees? (Wild)

[Velnias]

D A N C E with the D E V I L

Don't you dare look at him in the eye

All the air left my chest, sucked out of my body like a giant vacuum. My legs felt knocked out in impossible directions and I struggled against the whiplash that forced the veins in my neck to bulge and grow taut.

Then the ground slammed up into my soles and the immense pull of gravity was suddenly so heavy it prevented me from actually toppling over. The air swelled in the hairs of my Friesian coat and I breathed it in, the intake making my eyelids fly open. The crimson blood markings glowed bright red, like fire on my legs and and a bloodred blaze down my broad, regal face. My head was raised above chest-level, and my dark eyes swirled with the ghosts of things I'd seen. Things I'd done. And it was only the tip of the iceberg, the shallow tide pool of the deep, dark ocean. I knew this, this if nothing else. For a second I stood here, a dark black figure concealed, lost in the vast land of rolling hills and dipping valleys. I didn't falter. The dark lust in my mind taunted me, and I met it with pearly white daggers for teeth. I wasn't savage, not mad in the head. But I had a reason, and with it, a curse. I could not strip myself of this torturous cause.

Raising my eyes to the sky, my lips again hid my flashing white teeth. Nothing but surreality crossed my face. A ray of gray light alighted on the grass, and was doused out by the daker clouds again. Gray here, always gray. Why did the dam-ned grass always have to be gray in such a place? The clouds overhead, looking so lazy and fat. Looking as if they didn't care. If they didn't care, they didn't belong here. I could whisk them away in a second. But, no. They weren't worth it. I felt a conscious mind probing along the outsides of mine. Casting a careful glance skyward, as if looking into the invisible network that connected all our minds. Tiny threadlike synapses invisible to eye eyes. And I closed my eyes. I withdrew momentarily into myself, walking the dark walls of my mind, hearing the echoes of my hollow soles, the ricocheting of my huffing breath. I watched the invisible thing, poking at my mind, trying to speak with me. And I cast a film over myself, and allowed my mind to submerge under my full consciousness.

Though I had put to sleep the latter half of my mind so as to remain unlocatable by someone trying to communicate with me, I could still withdraw from walking inside myself. I saw through my own my eyes again. I felt the dead wind blowing across my face and buffering my chest. The tassels of my long, ebony and crimson-streaked mane shimmered in the gray shades of light. Finally, my truest colors. My less-revealed side had been allowed to shine through. The Friesian-like feathers cascading down my legs were made of strong silk. They tangled in the long grasses, which tickled my belly. And yet, I was insensible to it. For now, my stronger abilities were subdued along with that part of my consciousness. And so, With the new shine brought on by the strong red and black coloring, I lifted my chin. The cheekbones and muscled contours of my neck and face were sinewy and pronounced.

WORDS 673
MUSE great
NOTES not much to say yet; I have a feeling it'll pick up though! A lot!

[Wild@Heart]

The black eagle. His silhouette blended in with the nighttime sky, visible only when his frame passed in front of the smoldering moon. Shadows danced underneath winged halo, calling to the demons of the night, gathering the spawn of the beast himself. All was silent, god’s creatures cowering in fear, praying that he didn’t stop, that he wouldn’t notice the ones down below. Praying that they would not be the next sentenced to eternal damnination. And through that eerily silent sky rang the battle cry of the fiercest creature of all, the black eagle that claimed the sky. Branches shook as his voice vibrated the very ground that was stood upon, leaves of even the tallest trees trembling.

And following behind him was a single brave soul, walking upon four legs. The frame of the beast was dark, lined with thick cord like muscles underneath the surface. And from atop the center crown grew a horn, spiraled and rough in texture. And from the mangled horn dripped a green liquid, glowing in the moonlight. A single bug, light glowing from its body, landed upon the glowing substance, and instantly it fell, down a finely chiseled skull. And yet the beast did not hesitate, as if the killing of such innocent creatures, such beautiful ones, had little effect upon one’s conscious.

Orbs glowed golden, as front pillars were stretched out straight with each step, back ones lifted much too high off the ground. And yet the creatures were equally terrified of the oddity, cowering away from the very presence of one who dared accompany the devil himself. The dead blades of grass, thought to be lifeless, seemed to part and make way for the creature, as a sea would part for a ship. And yet the being did not take notice to such insignificant things, instead the pools of fire seemed to be focusing upon the winged devil, footfalls tracing the path from the sky. Blindly, the being was led. Blindly, the being followed. No questions were asked, no words uttered. And yet the eagle was followed, for the devil himself drew the attention of ones that were as cold and heartless as him.


Each step I took was hesitant, each breath forced. Never before had I actually seen the charcoal aviary that now flew overhead, instead he had only been present in my dreams. No, my nightmares. He was there, he was always there, and I was following him into the unknown. Exactly what I was doing now. I didn’t want to follow him, I didn’t want to keep moving forward in this direction, and yet it was as if I had no choice in the matter. Something bigger was involved in this, something greater than myself or any other creature in this land, and whether I liked it or not I was involved.

As I kept up a brisk walk, topaz pools locked upon the creature in the sky, the yellowed blades of grass rubbed against my pillars, razors tearing at my soft flesh. Scratched were apparent, some deeper than others as the crimson liquid ranged from small beads at the surface to droplets streaking down my chocolate hide. The dead castles were the only things around, trees barely visible in the distance, and the presence of any other creatures long gone. Never before had I been in a land so desolate, especially after the cursed were released and these lands were filled with the living once more. And yet none of the living was present, signs of what had been littered the ground, but the world was completely silent.

And then a stench so retched that I had to force myself to breathe entered my nares, stinging at my orbs and burning my open wounds. Never before had I smelt such an awful aroma or one as strong as this. A thousand cursed wouldn’t even smell this bad, not even if you made it a million. There was something wrong here, something off, and I was walking right into it. I couldn’t turn back, I couldn’t crane my neck around to peer behind me and see what I was leaving. I had to keep walking forward; I had to keep my eyes upon the bird that I was following. His wings, large ebony feathers extended from bony fingers, stretched wide across the black sky, illuminated by the burning moon. And as he passed in front of god’s golden creation it appeared as if human figures were sprawled beneath his cover, dancing as pitchforks stabbed out in all directions, teeth razor sharp. As I watched, my breath grew caught in my throat, heart beating faster with fright. This was not good, not good at all.

And in the creatures large talons laid a dead fawn. I couldn’t hold in the gasp, a large amount of air filling my lungs as I peered at the astonishing sight. The dappled body was limp, legs dangling in the air, and I knew that the fawn would never breathe again. But the bird, it was carrying such a large creature with ease. Each stroke of its wings, each push against frigid air, it was so easy for the large beast. I could only imagine how big the bird was, how large its wingspan must have to be to support the weight of even the smallest hooved animal. The very thought scared me, terrified me to no end.

The scent was growing stronger, coating the inside of my nostrils and burning my throat, eyes watering and cuts burning. And just when I thought the smell couldn’t get any worse, it did. I was forced to stand in the smell as the large bird began to circle something, something to the right of me, something hidden in the long grass. Hesitantly I made my way over there, each step taking longer than the last. Somehow the scent kept getting stronger, a mixture of dead animal and stagnant water. And as I stepped into the clearing, shoulder height grass finally coming to an end, the things that I saw made my heart stop and my blood run cold. Instantly I knew where we were, what land we had stumbled upon in the cursed terra. We were at The Black Lake, but things were not the normal. If today were any normal day then a few dead equines would be floating in the pond, ones that had yet to die littering the edges as they quenched their thirst. But not today, today things were very far from this. The pond was no longer visible, millions of decaying frames taking up the whole surface. The only way one would know that there was water underneath was by the gentle swaying of the lifeless creatures, almost as if they were still breathing. But the millions of little rodents, the hundreds of larger creatures, and the very few equine bodies that were visible were ripped open, red claw wounds exposing pink flesh and making it very clear that they were not. And as my orbs were locked upon taking in such a horrifying sight, a small splash was heard in the distance, bodies rippling away from the source. My eyes were instantly drawn there, taking in the body of the fawn that had just been in the eagle’s claws. No longer were his talons full, but empty as sharp claws extended in the air.

And then he began to move away once more, wings pumping the air. Once again I was compelled to follow, legs moving without me telling them to. And once again I was not allowed to look back, only to follow in the path of the creature that flew in the sky. But no longer were we prancing through long prairie grass. Now we were traipsing through the forest, winged creature hopping from treetop to treetop, hesitating in between as he waited for me to catch up. I wasn’t in control of where I moved, yet somehow my body swayed in between large tree trunks, avoiding full on impact but not managing to avoid the fingertips that were outstretched. My back was no longer free of wounds, cuts crisscrossing each other as blood dripped down my sides.

The bird picked up the pace, obviously in a hurry to get where he was going. Without permission I too picked up a faster pace, short legs working in overtime as the ground flew by underneath me hooves. I was grateful to be able to take in large amounts of pine scented air, although the scene that had been sprawled out in front of me just moments ago had not been forgotten. I was part of this, part of that, somehow and I needed to figure it out. Preferably sooner than later. Before I became just another body laying dormant in that pond, just another frame that took up space. And the worst part about it would be that no one would miss me, no one would even know that I was gone. I had no connections in this world, no one to turn to for help. It was me against the world, me against this huge problem, and I didn’t know what to do.

It seemed as if we were only in the forest for a short time, but as if we had been travelling for miles before we finally exited. The land descended in a steep slope, giving way to a grassy valley. The eagle didn’t slow his pace, and I wondered if he expected me to gallop down such a steep hill, but as he didn’t slow I kept up. I could feel my body sliding; I could feel my legs giving out and gravity taking over. No longer was I running down the hill, but somersaulting. Sharp objects cut into soft hide, tearing as a trail of blood was left behind. And when I finally slowed, when my body came to a halt, I was unable to move, unable to open my eyes or take in the world around me. I was unable to access my senses, unable to take in my surroundings. And so I just laid there, basking in the ability to be able to control myself once more, to be the one telling my body what to do. It was a welcome relief.

Words; 1,720
Muse; Amazing!

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[Velnias]

D A N C E with the D E V I L

Don't you dare look at him in the eye

The wind was picking up now, and with it a new sea of smells. All of them cascaded over me and, going with the flow of the earth, I drew them in and discarded them just as quickly. Only a few were strong enough to mean anything to me. However, I recognized two of them: the smell of horse, and the smell of time. The scent of death was there as well, but by now its sure and certain presence had clogged my airways, leaving little room left for me to distinguish one scent from the next. They have always said you will surely never forget its staunch smell. However, how would they truly know? They haven't smelt death like I have. I have bathed in blood, seen it exposed before me in one fluid motion. I have, myself, driven the force behind its exposure. I have bitten through flesh to reach it. I have felt my own oozing from a gap in my skin, a gap wide enough to have been broken by large jaws on my leg, or on my neck. I have felt its presence at various stages, from between my birth, when the blood of my mother was first introduced to me. It was the freshest smell in my mind then, and each time I smell the bleeding of my adversaries or the blood dripping from my own hide, her smell reacquaints itself with my nostrils. I've smelled the stuff all my life, though when I was a newborn I forgot that fleeting vision I had of it all. None of us remember it, but as an aging stallion sees his life flashing in his own eyes a second before the impact of death, a newest born foal sees it also pre-empting his first moments of life. I, however, have been lucky -or ill-fated- enough to remember the vision, but perhaps you could say I was truly lucky not to have remembered exactly what the vision was of.

How do I know these things? I assume so much, do I? Of sayings of others, common fallacies, quotings and references that I discard so easily to be simply true or unmistakably false? It is because I never, in fact, assume anything. I measure up all odds, I calculate every angle, I create my own self and my own destiny. I am the unnatural force that creeps through life, slowing time down to milliseconds as it goes, knowing exactly how and where to fall so that at the moment of my death I'll have no regrets. No worying of straying from the path. That, too, I believe; that there is a preordained path we all are set onto by the rough and heavy hands of the fellow who breathed life into the first ones. We're all only pawns, regardless of status. And the gods? Players of the chessboard. I have seen life, and have seen it ebbing, pooling onto the ground in smooth, crystalline puddles of rubies. I've seen it old and decaying. I happen to know many things. Death is one of them. I have lived, and died, and been reborn. It seems impossible, but I have hung between the balance of a single drop of blood. Betwen succumbing to dying and hanging onto life. I've been brought back from that crucial place and here, now, I stand, battered and bruised inside, but just as strong as a young colt. Only much stronger.

I also know that time has a smell. Apart from I, myself, having been near the gods' lands in my traveling enough to smell their utterly engulfing scents. It's unexplainable. But this time, here in the Cursed valley, I sensed now in the wind the kind of time that only tickles your nostrils, already flared to try to catch and hint of anything. The time that is fleeting. The time that leaves me with little of it left. I knew I'd been here only a short time but still, I felt the urge to move on. But that smell, that scent of horse, drew me away from that possibility. I was weighing my chances still, and arrived at the conclusion that, in fact, I had time. It was a trying task, constantly having to keep my thoughts trained on subduing my mind. I would otherwise make this process so easy...if I could freely use that tool in my head, I could settle this problem in an instant. But I was here on my own. Kratos' power had left me for now. The freedom was like a gap, wide and empty within me, that made me weak in the knees. I, however, was still strong alone. I tok a step forward in the tall grass.

Lo and behold, that hoofstep began to reveal to me the entire valley before me. The world here had been written in so many awry shades of gray that I hadn't been able to percieve any depth at first. Now, though, I could see clearly that I was standing atop a higher hill than the others around me. Somewhere in the distance the vague outline of gray-purple mountains could barely be seen through gaps in the thivk, stormy clouds. At my feet which, red as they normally were, had disapeared in the endless tangle of tall grass stems, the colors of the ground were a dark color of brown. My body was black still but here in this place, the bloody red coloring of my legs and hooves and eyes and locks and bridge of my face were less strong. They were a reddish-purple and darker, a dimmer hue, so that they would better blend with the lack of light and the ebony of my coat. However, to any random eye, they were still different from my muscular mass's normal color of stark, deep black.

There was a noise, far away from me but not too far for my ears to quietly pick up on. The sweet, kindled smell in my nostrils reignited itself. The scent of a mare, but not sweet like the flowers of a field. Not ripe like the fruits of an orchard tree. Not distict, like a zebra's stripes, or a fingerprint. Ordinary, but unique all at once. I couldn't pinpoint what it was. But there was a horse, and I heard her, and I smelled her. My hooves began to move forward again. Another step, and another slowly, and soon I was walking. I was wading in a sea of long grasses that itched at my silky coat. Summertime; it should have been late summertime or even early autumn. But instead here, in the Cursed lands so big and vast, it was like winter. It was cold, and the cold bit at my skin but I brushed it off as any mortal horse would a fly.

Now that I felt my feet tip forward, the gracious skyline disappeared from my view of the horizon. I walked down the slope of the hill, the grass tickling under my chin but I didn't mind it at all. My face was stone cold, turned like a statue to the harsh wind that drifted, lonesome and dead, through the plainsland. The hills in the distance, round and smooth, created the new ridged horizon. I became like a shadow moving in between the stalks as one with the wind. I followed the trail that quickly became distinct as to its origin after a few paces. My flared nostrils tracked it like a bee to honey. A flashing light in my eyes gave away any emotions I might have been feeling. Curiosity. Excitement. The darkness within them, though, overshadowed any doubt that I might let myself forget to adhere to details, details. To my work. I was not easily distracted. I would not let a mare get inside my head. My days as a love-trodden and foolish colt were long since wiped from my slate. There was no room for error in my fated life.

When the ground began to shift upwards again after the longest time, crossing that dip of the valley, I saw the sky expose itself again if not for the billowy clouds. The hills in the distance were gray like them, only they didn't unfurl and shift sideways in the sky, and were much darker, rounded shapes. I felt like a tiny insect in that vast place. My hooves were firmly rooted into the ground with each powerful step, each long and smooth stride catching the wind in the locks of my mane, unfurling my tail like a banner. And yet without the reserves of dark power, or dark magic that my body had grown used to holding, I felt light and free; that sudden freedom was a strange thing and a good thing. I needed to remain accustomed to it; I constantly had to take care not to allow myself to fall into too strict a routine. And this new mare...I was looking forward to meeting her. I was looking forward to giving her a little surprise. Oh, the things I could do...I could begin with a nice approach. A smart mare, though, would sense me coming. Were I under Kratos' influence, she would have sensed me miles away, sensed the heavy cloak of my mind settling down over the area, and known that their was no escaping my clutches. But I would do this the old way. She was only a mare, and I was the Devil 'come to get her. But still, I did not want to underestimate her.

When my forehead cleared the top of this next mound of earth and I could see all around me again, I felt a current of air hit my face, ducking my head, I missed the razor-like talons of the dark bird that soared up to meet me. In that flash of an instant, I saw its old and decrepit and scarred face. I saw the tiny dark pits it had for eyes--and I bore into them with my own, both our eyes fiery smoldering pits, deep down, reddish caverns alight with shadows. The vulture's gaze broke from mine and it let out the shrillest hawking cry, as I pinned my ears and darted out of its way. The bird twisted in mid-flight, contorting its body until it was no longer airborne. It hit the ground with a soft thud, its fall hindered by the stems, and I watched a unique thing happen. Before my very eyes, and I knew it could not be an optical illusion. I was many things indeed, but crazy was not one of them, even though some seemed to think so; the bird's body cracked and snapped, breaking in upon itself and crumpling up like paper until its feathers plucked out and even those disentigrated to ash. A wicked snarl showed my pearly white teeth, and a deep grunt came from my throat in distaste, but with satisfaction buried beneath it. I had recognized those eyes; recognized the evil in them. Evil that I had sen lurking in dark corners. I didn't know it could take such a form; a living, breathing, moving, thinking shape of a creature. It was something to think about as I prepared for a confrontation between myself and this mare. Whoever she was, that she'd attracted such darkness towards her.

Aside from her being like a magnet festering with batlike shadows, she looked like she'd turned the story completely. I'd used what little capacity I could in my mind without...well, reawakening it. That bird of prey had known more than any creature of flight should, and the leeching malice gleaming in those two orbs of light, he had used that knowledge to summon some kind of power. This bird was a machine; an instrument of fate. This mare lying broken and relief finally spread across her face, had been another pawn. Little did she know that I had stopped her on a crash collision with fate. Even from my distance, as I was more than ten horse lengths from her and above eye level, I could still see the worry lines, creases in her brow, as if she knew she was part of something bigger and had accepted it as true and unchangeable. As had I. We, of course, were both pawns of the gods' chessboard, and the gods were pawns of the chess game played by fate; I, however, did not believe fate had intended such an occurence as the meeting between us. Somehow, I sensed it, or rather the lack of feeling, that I should have felt. It was though this place was unprepared for the kind of meeting we were about to experience. The kind of scene that would be unfolding here. Nothing expected us. I was a wild card.

I began to tread down the slope. I approached her in silence, aware that she was in disarray, or at least that her mind was not fully awake. She bled profusely, and though I much would have enjoyed the chance to step into her mind at this opportune time, I was aware of my limits. Again I was forced to remind myself to stay in check and not underestimate. If she sensed me coming, it didn't matter. I was not afraid; even if she were powerful, she should be grateful to me for happening across her. Even if she were not grateful as she did noty, after all, know I'd saved her, then I was still more powerful than she. In her dark face, her eyes that did not register with the undead world yet, I saw deep thoughts running like broad black rivers on which curses are cast; I saw, in her fine form left weak from strain but strong from having walked miles on end, the capability but not yet the capcity of power like mine. There was something lurking in her blood that wasn't right, something like mine, something like poison. I then let my eyes flick over the curved, notched horn that lay in the weeds and protruded from her skull. I understood all that I could from watching her outwardly, and was not afraid. A grim scowl settled onto my face, and I was reminded of my purpose. I should be moving towards camp. But now, with my mind hidden below the radar, I could do what I so pleased and not a soul would know. Still, she being here irked me, and knowing I'd saved her and used up precious energy of my own reserve to save her, irked me further. The spine of that bird lay rotting in the ground and I didn't know yet that the anger that had fueled the action that killed the thing, would be the only error I'd made yet. No matter anyways; I was running on a mortal's power now and wouldn't let myself be drained of any more. This mare could come to her senses in time; she should be thankful to me already. I seriously hoped she didn't take too long, because then I'd have to leave her stranded, and I hoped she wouldn't spit and caw at me like the ratty bird I'd just slaughtered, because then I'd be forced to maneuver that ram's horn of hers straight through her own poison-stricken heart. Pitiful shame, really, because she was beautiful. And I wouldn't be deterred by even that.

WORDS 2,745
MUSE AWESOME(!!!) You've no idea the (plot-bomb)allusions I dropped in that post...
NOTES That was poetic. I think I made up some words. Leeching, hawking, I'm pretty good at this! Ironically, they describe the feel of the actions better than any created word I know of.

[Wild@Heart]

I was far too old to remember my birth, and should have been far too old to remember the dreams I had had as a child, and yet they still were fresh in my mind. A terrified newborn, who wouldn?t forget that. And to this day I was still terrified, still quaking in my boots. I was going to die, that part was inevitable, and yet I did not want to die in the way my conscious was telling me. To go peacefully was many?s dream, and I was no different.

A small brown frame lay in the tall grass, body quivering. Alone of course, she was always alone. A cold sweat moistened her hide, tufts of hair sticking up in points. Her legs thrashed around violently, crushing the tall blades that were within reach. Her breathing was ragged, nostrils shaking violently as she attempted to catch her breath, white phlegm gathering around her nostrils and lips. Her pools were closed, her fast almost sullen in manner if it hadn?t been for the sheer terror that was visible upon her mask. It was easy to see that she was having a nightmare, one that appeared very real to her, and yet no one was there to comfort her. Where were her parents, one might ask, but ah, their little daughter need no one but herself. And so she lay alone, thrashing in the dark of night. Her mind was all her one, the one place she thought she could be alone, and about that she had been very wrong.

In the child?s mind it had all started out rather simply. She had been merely exploring, taking in the scenery. Long blades of grass were alive, green and glistening with morning dew. And as she walked down the worn dirt path her sides became wet with the substance. She enjoyed this feeling very much, and as the breeze blew she would stop, allowing it to blow through her tassels and against her moist hide, a cold chill running down her spine. Many times she had been cautioned against this, told that it would cause her to become ill, and each time she had ignored the elder?s words of advice. Today would be no different. And so as she continued to move her eyes scanned the unknown horizon. Trees were visible in the distance, their trunks large, even with such distance. Their jade petals stuck out in sharp contrast against the lightly tinted backdrop of sky, and in their branches could be seen the winged foe. She had been cautioned against them also, told that such creatures were not to be trusted. But she knew not why, and so she didn?t believe. She had never seen one hurt anything other than the little field mice that roamed upon the ground, and she couldn?t picture one harming such a large creature as a horse. If one tried, she thought, that any smart horse would just hoof it to death. And so she continued to take in the other creatures, all of which she had been told about but had never seen herself. Her curious golden pools watched the rabbits forage upon the hard ground, picking at the berries that lay scattered. She wanted to taste one, and yet she knew the rules. She was to not go wandering, but to stay on the designated paths so that she was easy to find. And so she stayed where she was, watching with envy as the rabbits velveteen muzzle grew ruby stained. Continuing on, she spotted a deer, such strange creatures to her. She thought that they were alike, that they could be one, and could see no reason why there needed to be separated herds. She rather adored their spots, speckling on their backs that she wished she had. She knew that there were other creatures out there, more to see, but, sadly, they were much too small for her eyes to dial in upon at such a distance. And so instead she began to search the area around her, not daring to move anything other than her crown in fear that she might make a noise that would scare them away. She waited patiently, head swinging from side to side, and yet nothing appeared. She began to grow inpatient, and look for reasons to why they weren?t there. At first she smelled herself, nostrils not catching any sort of aroma. And then she sniffed the air around her, taking in the familiar smell of her land. Nothing new, nothing interesting. But just at that moment something moved out of her peripheral vision, and she snapped her head around to stare at it, or rather them. Ants, a line of what had been described to her as wants were marching upon the ground. Curious, she walked over to them, putting her nose close to the ground to smell such odd creatures. She knew not how they survived, for they had to get stepped on quite frequently. And yet here they were, unalarmed by her presence. She took in a deep breath, lifting a few up off their feet as they were sucked into the vacuum of her nostrils. A snort was done then, vibrating through her nasal canals as the ants once more switched places, back to their original. But they didn?t continue back on their journey. In fact they weren?t moving at all. This confused the young beauty, her brow furrowing. But she didn?t wait long, knowing about death already and deciding that that?s what they must be. And so she began to follow their long train, forgetting all about staying on the path or that there was still the danger of other animals in the real world.

These were such interesting creatures to her, the way all 6 of their legs moved in tandem as they walked, or the way they all easily kept pace. And for such small creatures they were mighty strong, able to carry things that covered up their whole bodies. For some it appeared as if a leaf was floating, or a dead caterpillar. Dark golden femme could only imagine how strong of a horse that would make, if the ratios were transferred. And so she continued to follow the small creatures, amazing by their ways. It wasn?t until her face was darkened by a shadow that she looked up, large trees looming tall over her small frame. Looking behind her, the dirt path she had come from wasn?t visible, covered up by the tall grass that waved at her. She was scared now, no longer focusing upon the row of ants that were disappearing in the distance. She had broken one of the few rules, and now she would have to pay. Her mind began to wander, imagining if she was stuck here all night, left by herself for the wolves to find and eat. That would not be good, not good at all, and she knew the little brown creatures had weaved their own path, to her dismay. They had betrayed her, and even the grass that kept her alive had been swept back together, covering her trail.

Frozen in fear her mind reeled, searching for the answer. But then came a smell, burnt hide entering her nostrils. Her pools opened, orbs searching. And they landed upon a sight so awful, so wretched, that it would haunt her in her nightmares every time she slept. Before her stood, what she could only assume had once been a lively black colt. But no longer was he lively, or could she say alive at that. His hair was all gone, no tufts to be seen, and open wounds covered his skin. She wanted to puke at the sight, she knew she did, but somehow nothing came up. Instead she dry heaved as the creature approached his frame larger than hers and wider. Both of his ears were gone, and as she searched for his eyes she found nothing but empty burnt sockets. He was barely more than a walking skeleton, and she knew neither of how he found his way about, or how his heart was still beating. But as he reached her he stopped, his cave opening as if he were about to speak but instead of words coming out ash poured forth. A pile now lay upon the ground at his feet. She had been watching the pile grow, and now when she looked up his body was slowly turning too, starting with his muzzle turning to ash, and ending with the very back of his legs. Her own cave opened, attempting to scream but it got stuck in the back of her throat and she was unable to release it. The world around her began to slowly change, the grass tips all starting on fire and burning until there was nothing left upon the ground other than black char. The trees, too, all burnt to the ground. Her world was now empty, the sky growing black from the smoke. Her lungs became filled with it, coated with the dry dust, and she gasped for air. Her lungs ached, filling with the ashy substance, and yet she was still alive. The fire began to take over her, burning at her skin as sweat poured, and yet she was still alive. She could feel such great pain, and yet she was always still alive. And then, from the sky, from out of nowhere, would come large ebony eagles. They were not going to rescue her, like she had at first thought, but were going to add to her pain. The sky would grow black, covered by their swarm, and many would fly down at her all at once. Fight as hard as she try she was never able to do anything, the fire holding her in place. And so she would just stand there as they would tear at her twin peaks, peck at her golden orbs, and rip open her mahogany hide.

And just before she died, then and only then, would the small filly awake from the world of terror. Her head would raise violently, eyes large with fright, and she would begin to inspect her body. Burn wounds would be visible, crawling up her legs, her eyes would burn, and her ears would bleed. Over her body would run deep cuts, skin spread wide to expose her salmon colored muscle. Her lovely tassels would be charred, ends burnt, frayed, and smelling of smoke. Many times had her parents seen her in such a state, and instead of comforting their feared daughter they would send her away, not wanting the others to see what had happened. She would beg to stay, attempt to tell them the story, but they wanted to hear none of it. And so the little fae grew to resent her parents and their unloving ways. She blamed them for everything, for making her what she was. And then came the day that she would grow her horn filled with poison, a horn that would intoxicate her whole body. This would also be the day that she would make the whole herd her mortal enemies just because they would turn their backs upon a creature so odd. And yet they bowed down to a horned goddess.


In my unconscious state I began to dream. I had been following the large eagle, the one with ebony tassels, and he had brought me to an empty valley. In this valley the grass was all dead, fields of golden blades waving in the wind, rustling together to make soft background music. The horizon was vast, framed by tall oak trees and hued with the crimson streaked sky. The world around me was so peaceful, my whipcord dancing in the wind. Nothing unusual was going on here at all, the air clean of many scents. And this time I was able to control my own movements, the winged beast leaving me alone in this place. But I was not stupid in the least, I knew there had to be more to this plan of his then just letting me go, and so I stayed where I was, lost in thought. I began to think about my childhood, the way my parents had kept me from the world. I had been haunted by this creature then, and even now he was not a welcome sight. But no longer did he terrify me; no longer was he such a scary sight. I had come to accept my fate in a way, not that I wanted it in the least. I still had great hope that one day my knight in shining armor would come, that one day I would be taken far away from this beast, but I knew that it was nothing more than a waist of hope.

And then my thoughts were silenced, shoved to the very corners of my brain, as my nares caught wind of a stallion. My pools scanned the horizon, landing upon his ebony frame as he walked my way. The yellowed blades did not part for him as they did for the eagle, but he kept coming anyways. As he grew closer I was able to get a good look at him, my orbs scanning over his large frame. His eyes, what I always seemed to see first, were an icy blue, looking into my very soul. I was unable to look away, hypnotized as the light hit them is such a way. But, after a few seconds, I was able to move freely once again, now analyzing his finely chiseled cheek bones, and narrow nose. His forelock fell upon his crown, streaked with scarlet hairs. His mane followed the pattern, tail in sync. But his body, his coat, was of the darkest ebony I had ever seen, and the hair upon his legs was what his highlights accented. He was a strange sight to see, this stallion. But my oh my, was he gorgeous. He never stopped moving forward until he was right in front of me, our noses almost touching. I watched him, awaiting his next move, and yet it never came. He had disappeared. I was gaining feeling back.

My body ached everywhere, but the worst was my skull. A throbbing pain was present, needlelike with each pump of my blood. I needed to asses myself, to see if I could move. I needed to remember how this had happened. I had been dreaming, no it hadn?t been a dream. I had been forced to follow that eagle, forced to run down this hill, and forced to tumble to a stop. I had been forced to walk through the saw grass that had cut up my legs, forced to run through the trees that had cut up everywhere else. Today had not been a good day for me, and now I barely wanted to move. But then something new caught my senses, the scent of the stallion that I had just met. Quickly my eyes flew open, peering at the beast?s crimson feathers. Panicking, I attempted to stand, grimacing as pain shot through my joints. And yet I managed, turning to inspect the beast. He was every bit the same as he had been in my dream, and I could admit that he wasn?t unattractive, but he didn?t seem to bring out the same little girt crush in the real world.

My mask was emotionless as I stared at him. At first all was silent, and I took a moment to inspect my scenery. The land was covered in rolling hills in all directions but behind me, for behind me the land gave way to a steep slope, and that had been what I had fallen down. But this land, the ground was empty and covered with dead grass, much like what had been in my dreams. And besides that, the sky was at sunset, crimson streaks painted upon the light blue. But the world around us was now coming alive with insects, crickets strumming violin and mosquitoes landing upon my wounds. And as much as I wanted to lift my banner and swat at them, as much as I wanted each and every single blood sucking beast dead, I knew that it would not be worth the pain.

But as my focus was more was directed toward the stallion in front of me, my cave parted, as if I were about to speak. And yet I knew not of what I wanted to say. I didn?t know what this beast wanted, or who he was, but I did know that for some reason the black eagle needed me to be with him, and so whether I wanted it to be or not that is what would happen. My destiny. I mouthed the words, only air coming out of my cave as I continued to peer into his pools, my own empty of all emotion.

Words; 2,828
Muse;

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[Velnias]

D A N C E with the D E V I L

Don't you dare look at him in the eye

My destiny. I read all sorts of things; minds and words alike. I saw their meanings like a brilliant crystal sparlking under the lighted surface of a tide pool. Except that the sun did not bounceoff my mind like it did on the water. Instead my vision was full of thick, black clouds. I was used to them, so they didn't hinder my vision like anyone forced into the position I'd readily chosen, would feel. This mare's clouds hovered over her head, because she was either too weak to hide them or didn't know how. I almost scoffed at her weakness; she gave many things about her to me right then and there. Whereas I knew how to hide my thoughts. I'd decieved the most infamous, the ever ingenious Lord of Death, after all. Every one of them, then, too. I am alive, am I not? Wrong; I once was. With the many twists and turns that envelop my story, one can get lost in the fibres of my mind. But no, you can't figure me out. You cannot fool me.

I'll give you some mercy. When I passed through death, I didn't stay there forever but I was then under the control of the God of Death, for I was in his world and he saw me, and brought me back to the living. His cold breath on my shoulder I bit at and blew away, and he relented and let me go. Upon scrambling to my hooves I found myself awake in the dimly lit prison camp of the army of Kratos, and he gave me a proposition. They couldn't curse me, he said, because I'd entered on different circumstances, the land of the Cursed within Tainted Paradise. So I would be the only one not living on borrowed time, and in exchange for my full service to him he would keep me alive, young and strong, with his vast amounts of power that would be used to create his Army. In exchange for this, I would have to learn to play both sides, be two different entities, and exist in both worlds. With the promise of power and reign over all, I laughed in spite of what was to be at stake. And so I exist on the power he promised me, with the slightest quiver of guilt fading away with each passing night.

~ UNFINISHED

WORDS
MUSE
NOTES

[Wild@Heart]

-BUMP-