Post by Summer Tyme on Oct 25, 2007 19:41:17 GMT -5
The mare stood high upon a small cliff, a shear drop off plummeting over fifty feet into the muddied river. Her fire hide shone with the brightness of the sun as the largest star beat down on the dry land. The vixen's dial was held high, orbs peering across the barren land, thorns pricked, the image of perfect beauty, peace, harmony, all seen from the outside. Inside was a different matter, the mare was tearing herself apart, to jump or not to jump, end her crazed life or let it go on, torturing her young mind. She wouldn't jump, she enjoyed her crazy life, the feeling of all others scared of her, all others amazed by her beauty, power. A sharp wind swept across the flat land, whipping the mare's chestnut threads into the air, revealing a stark white brand on the left side of her boa. It was loud, a scar from her features, it read, "BML13" the unlucky 13. Maybe it had cursed the mare, who knows. Backing from the ledge the fire vix picked up a lope, moving into a flat out gallop as she raced down the steep hillside of the cliff. Dust flew into the air, pebbles sprung into flight, scrape marks were left, burned into the side of the hill. Once twenty feet from the river, the mare launched herself from the land, red pelt gleaming in the sun, matching it's intensity. She landed heavily in the deep mud, sinking in up to her knees, but remained still. The brown, wet dirt splotched over her bright coat. Orbs burned with a blaze, unequine, more devilish.
