Post by Oxyrrhodine on May 25, 2018 21:35:15 GMT -7
The first week or so after Mystic’s dramatic departure from her former life had been hectic, a mad scramble to get as much distance between the rather extensive range that her now-former herd had worked in and herself as possible. All while using every trick she knew to cover her tracks, in case Sterling’s body was discovered sooner than she expected it to be. Hopefully she’d be long gone, her trail gone cold, by the time they even realized that they ought to send somebody looking for her. If that wasn’t the case, Mystic had known that she had to execute her plan very well. There wasn’t room for error. She had defeated Sterling, and had been one of the very best in her herd – how strange it was, thinking of these things in past tense – but they never sent just one or two members to track down those who had gone rogue. Mystic could deal with being outnumbered by any equines outside of her herd, but the case was different when she was facing those who had been bred for generations and trained since birth, the same as she had. Even natural talent probably wouldn’t save her if she was outnumbered five to one. So her option was to flee, as quickly and stealthily as she could. There had been no fear in the overo mare’s thoughts, though. In fact, she had relished the challenge, the new experience, the chance to outsmart those that she had worked alongside for so long.
Eventually, though, when she’d spent nearly a week traveling through entirely unfamiliar territory and had decided that she’d gone far enough, Mystic was left without a purpose. Her plan had only reached up too that point. Get away from Sterling, get away from herd that wanted her dead, get away from the life that had gotten boring, and that was as far as her plan had gone. It was a strange new feeling. She’d always had a goal, something she needed to be doing, first training and then a constant series of missions. Now she was just… free. That concept only daunted her for a split second before she decided to celebrate her newfound freedom, taking off across the alpine meadow she’d been grazing in with a loud, joyous, whoop. Her muscles, strong and well trained, propelled her across the meadow and through a series of athletic, twisting leaps. She barely slowed as her course brought her to the mountainsides. She had grown up among steep, treacherous slopes. Frolicking across them was quite literally child’s play to the black overo. She came down a slope, half-running and half-sliding on loose shale but always perfectly balanced, bi-colored gaze settling on a hawk resting in a low branch below.
Mystic galloped under the branch, leaping to bump it slightly, disturbing the resting bird. It swooped for her head, and she ducked it easily, laughing. It tried again with the same response, then decided to fly off through the trees, away from this nuisance of a horse. Mystic followed it, simply because she could, her agility on full display as she wove between trees and leapt over obstacles. She had no idea where she was going, and it didn’t matter at all. There was nowhere she needed to be, so she could do whatever she wanted. As long as it didn’t point her back towards her former herd, at least. She continued on, keeping pace with the winged creature, grace and power in her every movement. It flew over a river, turning to follow the clearer path downstream, and Mystic continued to follow. Water flew up in her wake, soaking her stomach and hind end. The stream, wide and shallow, began to run deeper and faster as the ground sloped downward, water white as it rushed over and around large rocks and logs. Another challenge. It would be easy to break a leg on terrain like this, or get swept away by the water and bashed against a rock, which made it all the more exciting for the battle-scarred mare. She leapt between rocks, like a horse pretending to be a mountain goat, balanced and sure-footed. The going was slower now, and the hawk outpaced her, but Mystic didn’t care. She had a new game to play. A loud, distant roar, louder even than the rush of the river, was beginning to grow closer. The river opened up into a deeper pool, cut through solid granite, and Mystic moved along the shoreline to where the water seemed to disappear. Slowing her pace, she moved forward until she was standing on a rock at the precipice of a waterfall, watching the ground and the water drop away. The place where the waterfall reached ground again was shrouded by mist. At the edge of the cliff, Mystic reared, free and happy and alive.
Holy shit, she loved being free. That was a thought that almost made her pause. Had she ever really loved anything? She’d been proud of her skills, had gotten a great amount of satisfaction from a job quickly and cleanly done, but had she ever loved something like she loved the feeling of frolicking across the landscape, her athleticism and reflexes between her and disaster, free to go anywhere and do whatever she pleased? There were little things that she enjoyed greatly, of course: the looks on the faces of the followers of some supposedly invincible leader whose ass she’d just kicked, watching the ‘oh shit’ expressions on the faces of roving bands of bachelors when she, their intended prey, turned out to be the predator. This was a purer sort of joy, though, making her laugh with childlike abandon. She was free. No more following orders, no more boring, repetitive missions. Just doing whatever she felt like doing for the rest of her life. And if anyone tried to stop her, they would regret it. She whinnied joyously, letting the misty updraft from the waterfall whip at her mane. But she was only getting started. What else could she do, now that she was free? Maybe next she’d find some horses. That sounded fun. She whirled, turning to trot through the trees, alert for the signs of other equines but mostly just enjoying the freedom that she had already fallen in love with.
Character: Mystic Shadows
Words: 1054
Notes: This one's kinda meh but this week was finals week.
Bonuses Attempted
Hawkeye
Inanimate Lovin'
Eventually, though, when she’d spent nearly a week traveling through entirely unfamiliar territory and had decided that she’d gone far enough, Mystic was left without a purpose. Her plan had only reached up too that point. Get away from Sterling, get away from herd that wanted her dead, get away from the life that had gotten boring, and that was as far as her plan had gone. It was a strange new feeling. She’d always had a goal, something she needed to be doing, first training and then a constant series of missions. Now she was just… free. That concept only daunted her for a split second before she decided to celebrate her newfound freedom, taking off across the alpine meadow she’d been grazing in with a loud, joyous, whoop. Her muscles, strong and well trained, propelled her across the meadow and through a series of athletic, twisting leaps. She barely slowed as her course brought her to the mountainsides. She had grown up among steep, treacherous slopes. Frolicking across them was quite literally child’s play to the black overo. She came down a slope, half-running and half-sliding on loose shale but always perfectly balanced, bi-colored gaze settling on a hawk resting in a low branch below.
Mystic galloped under the branch, leaping to bump it slightly, disturbing the resting bird. It swooped for her head, and she ducked it easily, laughing. It tried again with the same response, then decided to fly off through the trees, away from this nuisance of a horse. Mystic followed it, simply because she could, her agility on full display as she wove between trees and leapt over obstacles. She had no idea where she was going, and it didn’t matter at all. There was nowhere she needed to be, so she could do whatever she wanted. As long as it didn’t point her back towards her former herd, at least. She continued on, keeping pace with the winged creature, grace and power in her every movement. It flew over a river, turning to follow the clearer path downstream, and Mystic continued to follow. Water flew up in her wake, soaking her stomach and hind end. The stream, wide and shallow, began to run deeper and faster as the ground sloped downward, water white as it rushed over and around large rocks and logs. Another challenge. It would be easy to break a leg on terrain like this, or get swept away by the water and bashed against a rock, which made it all the more exciting for the battle-scarred mare. She leapt between rocks, like a horse pretending to be a mountain goat, balanced and sure-footed. The going was slower now, and the hawk outpaced her, but Mystic didn’t care. She had a new game to play. A loud, distant roar, louder even than the rush of the river, was beginning to grow closer. The river opened up into a deeper pool, cut through solid granite, and Mystic moved along the shoreline to where the water seemed to disappear. Slowing her pace, she moved forward until she was standing on a rock at the precipice of a waterfall, watching the ground and the water drop away. The place where the waterfall reached ground again was shrouded by mist. At the edge of the cliff, Mystic reared, free and happy and alive.
Holy shit, she loved being free. That was a thought that almost made her pause. Had she ever really loved anything? She’d been proud of her skills, had gotten a great amount of satisfaction from a job quickly and cleanly done, but had she ever loved something like she loved the feeling of frolicking across the landscape, her athleticism and reflexes between her and disaster, free to go anywhere and do whatever she pleased? There were little things that she enjoyed greatly, of course: the looks on the faces of the followers of some supposedly invincible leader whose ass she’d just kicked, watching the ‘oh shit’ expressions on the faces of roving bands of bachelors when she, their intended prey, turned out to be the predator. This was a purer sort of joy, though, making her laugh with childlike abandon. She was free. No more following orders, no more boring, repetitive missions. Just doing whatever she felt like doing for the rest of her life. And if anyone tried to stop her, they would regret it. She whinnied joyously, letting the misty updraft from the waterfall whip at her mane. But she was only getting started. What else could she do, now that she was free? Maybe next she’d find some horses. That sounded fun. She whirled, turning to trot through the trees, alert for the signs of other equines but mostly just enjoying the freedom that she had already fallen in love with.
Character: Mystic Shadows
Words: 1054
Notes: This one's kinda meh but this week was finals week.
Bonuses Attempted
Hawkeye
Inanimate Lovin'
