Living slow and loving fast.
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She/Her
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Post by aliyaah on Apr 14, 2023 18:37:57 GMT -7
divine. 16 hands high Morgan x Thoroughbred x APH x CW Grulla Tovero 7 years old
My eyelids flitter open, and immediately try to blink the heavy sleep from my eyes. My body feels as though there is a weight upon me, one that I recognize as fatigue - it is still early. I debate allowing my eyes to close once more, and letting myself re-greet my peaceful slumber... But something tells me not to. I roll over and stretch out my limbs, willing them to wake - but noting immediately that something does not feel quite right. It's a sensation I cannot immediately place... There's familiarity within it, but yet, it does not belong. My sleep-ridden mind does not want to care - equating this feeling to the fact that I have only just awoken. My lids close once again, one last reprise before I force myself out of my stupor. Then, with a sigh, I begin to hoist myself up.
It was both too easy, as well as inelegant. It was as if I put far more effort that was needed into the action, and as a result, my attempts to hoist myself to my legs almost sends me tumbling over in the other direction. "What, the...?" I wonder, blinking in confusion as I look down at myself. My legs look thin and gangly - still mine, but not at all how they are supposed to look. They look new, budding... Perhaps what was the most surprising to see was my tiny hooves. These were not at all the flints of a grown mare. I frown in frustrated disorientation. I move them, ensuring I still have control over them, and they do what I want... But still. This was not right. I lift my dial and take a look around, trying to make sense of what's happening without immediately letting the panic take over me. Drinking in my surroundings, however, only further adds to the puzzlement. I'm in the woods, surrounded by the trees just as I should be, but... These are not my woods. They are not strange to me, they have not been forgotten... But it is a forest I have not wandered in many years. Even still, I know the place exactly as soon as I see it. Yet how could it be? How had I ended up in Linossa - the former domain of my father, the place where I had been born? It looked exactly as I remembered it to be, which was not as it should be... This herdland had been passed through several since my childhood, and endured its share of difficulties. I should not be seeing it as I am, untouched. I peer at the environment, trying to distinguish what is happening.... The forest is bathed in a golden light, and the trees flitter beneath my scrutinizing stare, but they remain the same. I feel as though something is toying with me - presenting me as my younger self, taking me back to my childhood home. In a futile attempt, I call out, "Liberius?" - If this was reality, he should be nearby. But I was met with absolute silence, the lack of my mate and most trusted confirming that this, whatever this was, was untrue. Grumbling, I mutter to myself, "Beings of the Afterlife, if this is some kind of a joke... It is truly not funny or welcome today." I had been touched by the Afterlife before, had endless interactions with beings that had passed from the mortal world... But this was unlike anything I had endured before. A dream, but so real. I could feel the earth beneath my small bodice, the dirt clinging to my pelt, shifting beneath my digging hooves. I could smell the nature around me, the mundane musk yet freshness from the trees. The only way I knew this was a dream, or at least some ploy from the higher powers, was the fact I knew I should not be here. As pleasing as it was to see this place again... It had been left behind. My life was different now, and there was no going back.
Not knowing if this was something I was going to have to just let play out, or whether some action would be required from me, I hoisted myself to my feet. It was still much more ungainly of an action than I had hoped it to be - clearly despite having grown up, returning to my younger bodice did not give me absolute control over it, and I had reverted to my youthful clumsiness. I took a few wobbly steps, trying to reacquaint myself with this body. Soon enough, I was ambling through the woods somewhat productively. I kept my eyes sharp as I wandered, noting the soft shimmer in the trees as I passed them, and the gentle golden glow they were washed in. If this were real life, truly the steady timber would not be shifting like that. And Linossa had been much more green than it had been gold. Still, I pushed onwards, hoping to see if I was alone here in this dream-like paradise, or if I had not been the only one brought back.
Suddenly, voices broke through the trees. Despite the distance that I was at from the speakers, the tension in the chords was palpable. I recognized these voices, although I could only immediately place one of them. The one I knew belonged to my father, Alistair. This gave me comfort - he had been brought back too, and perhaps that meant that we could support one another as we attempted to figure out what was going on. I continued to head towards the sounds of my father and the other voice, and finally, pushed through the thicket to see their frames.
Despite having already recognized this experience as some kind of a dream, I was still taken aback to see my mother.
There she stood, conversing with my father, exactly how I remembered her. It was cleat to see where I had gotten my looks from. Whereas my father's features were as plain as plain could be, his body washed in halcyon, unmarked, the only way I took after him was through my silver gaze. My mother, however... She was where I had gotten my elegance from. My striking sterling and alabaster tones, placed upon my bodice in a striking tovero fashion. My father had always said that I had taken after her, and seeing her now, I remembered that to be true. I stepped towards them hesitantly, initially escaping their notice. It had been so many years since she had left us, that I had absolutely no idea what to do or say. As I walked towards them, I made the effort to catch their conversation - I assumed they would be talking about the current circumstances, whatever had brought us all here, and how we would go about fixing it. I was immensely surprised to find that they weren't.
"I don't know," Nimue stated, a slight irritation in her voice.
"I understand you need to do what you need to do, but..." Alistair commented in response - his vocals gentle and caring, but there was evidently stress within them.
"I need this. I don't know what else to do. I can't..." My mother's tones faded out, catching on the latter of the words.
It was only with this display of emotion that I suddenly realized what this was. A moment that I had lived before - but one that I wished I hadn't. This was when mother had told us that she was leaving. Following the death of my half-brother, Amnon. The toll of his death had been excruciating upon our family, and truly, had ended up tearing us apart. This moment right here was why. A part of my mother had died inside when Amnon had been killed. She, unlike any mourning mother, had struggled immensely. However, the pain of her loss had driven her to make a choice - and that choice had been to leave us behind.
"What about us? What do we tell Divine?" My dad asked. I don't remember much of him during this moment initially, so now, it was like I was seeing him go through it for the first time. The fear, the dismay was evident upon his bod... Yet there was no indication of it within his facade. It was like he was doing his best to rein in his feelings, perhaps out of his love for my mom. It didn't matter how he felt - he just wanted to support her, to love her, and to allow her to do whatever it was she felt she needed to do. Even at the cost of his own wellbeing. My heart broke for him. It was then that I stepped forwards, making my presence more obvious to the two adults.
"Mom? Dad?" I greeted them hesitantly, announcing myself. I half expected them to snap out of a trance - expecting to see that when their gaze fell upon my youthful self, they too would realize that something here was amiss, and we could set out to fix it. Yet when they turned to see me, they did not even flinch. There was no surprise, no change within their expressions. It was as if I was exactly how they knew me to be. This was how the had known me in this moment. Not the grown mare I was supposed to be. Not the former Queen of the Neutral Kingdom, not the Lady of the Woods. Not the woman who had struck down the Lord of the Underworld, not the one who had sacrificed duty for love. No, to them, I was just their baby. And a baby that my mother was about to leave behind.
"Divine," My father said in a pained voice. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he was at a loss of what exactly to say. He turned his gaze back towards my mother, who looked at me seriously. She had always been the more serious between the two of them.
"Divine, I have to go away." She told me, history repeating itself. I knew what words came next. "I need to get away for a little while. To try to clear my head. You know I've been struggling ever since your brother... Died. I just need some time away to get over it."
I recall what I had done in this moment previously. I had told her I didn't understand what she wanted to leave us. That we should be together. That perhaps we should all go. Anything that I could think of to make her stay. I was just a baby after all, a child losing their mother. The only thing that had put me at ease was my mother's promise that she would be back. I had been easily convinced. I had thought that perhaps this was only temporary, short-lived. If I had to endure a little time away for my mom to get better, well then, it was something I could do. Little had I known that her promise would be broken.. And eventually, would break a part of me. Little did I know how fractured my father would be after mom left, and how the pain of seeing him that way would make me distance myself. Wanting to put the suffering behind me, from the abandonment from my mother and the broken soul that was my father, had made me throw myself into a commitment - a commitment to the kingdom and making it better. A commitment that had eventually lead me to become queen.
Now, however? Now I knew better. Now I saw that the tears upon my mother's face had long been dried. Now I saw that she had been planning this for a while. And perhaps even now, she knew she was never coming back. Despite the love that my father and I had for her, we would never be good enough. Never be able to replace what she had lost in Amnon. And that... was devastating.
I might look like a child in this moment, but I was still my fully experienced, adult self on the inside. And with that experience, had developed a personality that was not pushed over or around. Not by anyone. My mom had been a queen, had ruled a kingdom... But so had I.
"You lie." I stated flatly.
"I... What? What do you mean?" My mother asked, her visage changing into a look of sheer confusion.
"I'm not going to waste my time begging you to stay when your mind is already made up. You're going to promise me that you're going to be back, but that's a lie. You'll never come back." It had been six years that she had been gone, after all. If she wasn't back now, she was never coming back.
"That's not true, Divine." She retorted, but there was uncertainty within her response. Perhaps it was owed to the fact that I spoke words that were so unlike me - so much more grown than what she knew me to say. She certainly would have been unused to me standing up to her like this.
"It is true. You leave us behind. We're your family. You're supposed to love us. And you abandon us." I tell her coldly.
"I am not abandoning you." Nimue states, but her voice wavers.
"You are. You're leaving us for good. Don't you know what you're about to do? Don't you know how this destroys him?" I motion towards my dad. When I look towards him... He looks heart-broken. I do my best not to break. Still looking at him, I say, "He doesn't deserve this." As the words leave my mouth, my dad's body fades away, leaving just my mother and I.
"Just go, mom. I know nothing I can say will stop you from it. Just know the severity of what you're going to do. How your selfish actions changed us. You destroy him, and me. But despite your best efforts, we get better. You miss me becoming queen. You miss him becoming king. You miss us thriving. You miss the birth of your granddaughter. I want you to know this. And I want you to regret it." The words I said were filled with hostility. I had once thought reuniting with my mom would be a reconciliation, filled with love. Now I know, that is never to be.
"I lived the better part of my life missing you, wishing you'd come back. But now seeing you again, watching you make this choice... I realize. You were no mother to me. And dad and I - we're better off without you." If I was the sort to spit at people, I likely would. But that was beneath me. She looked at a loss for words, but I didn't give her the chance to say anything else. I did not even look at her long enough to see her fade away, either. For as soon as I was done speaking, I turned away from my mother for the very last time. I turned away from any hope of what might be, of any wish of what could have been.
I did not know why I had been brought here, why I had been forced to endure that moment again. But in any case, I was done with it. If I was stuck here for a while, so be it. At least I got to say the words I always wished I could have said.
PROMPT - Back in Time BONUSES - A New Point of View, It was Only Just a Dream, 2000+ words.
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Living slow and loving fast.
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She/Her
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Post by aliyaah on Apr 20, 2023 13:00:56 GMT -7
The sun had now began to rise into the early morning sky, but its awakening had not been before that of the painted vixen who was bouncing below. She had always been an active individual, waking well before most of those even began to stir. It gave her the chance to enjoy the quiet mornings, to revel in the still waters before the teeming life in their surroundings began to disturb it. Nautica had an intense devotion to the sea - she had been born on its shores, and where she had received no love from her mother, she had found comfort within the warm waters. This was something that had been instilled with her from childhood, and since then, she was scarcely found far from the crashing waves. Nautica had no commitments to life aside from living freely and without care, liberated to do what she will. And that was just the way that she preferred to be. She was a being of adventure, of excitement - an adrenaline junkie, of sorts. She enjoyed diving into the briny deep from high cliffs, she found elation in descending into the aqua's depths, perhaps even deeper than what was safe for a land-mammal such as herself. She swam with the fishes, she frolicked amidst their vibrant colours, so rarely found above the surface. This spring morning was no different for Nautica - as the sun began to cast it's warm light across the tide, the mare was traversing the beach exuberantly. She practiced a two-beat gait down the coast, making a game of dodging the current as it extended and retracted from the mass of land. The ocean's air was fresh that morning, a result of the spring showers which had passed through the domain over the course of the night. It had left the sands damp and cool, and clumps of it clung to her hooves and lower limbs as she treaded the coast.
There were intermittent clouds in the multi-toned skies above, dictating that the rain might not have finished its path. Indeed, as the Classic Champagne Tobiano bounded along the water, the heavens began to drop liquid of its own. It was gentle, however - a mere sprinkle, and hardly an inconvenience. Rather, it was a pleasant sensation as it fell upon her seventeen point three hand high bodice, tickling her. It was not nearly enough to leave her overly wet, not that she would have minded. But it was enough that upon the already soaked sands, small pools of water began to form. She could not resist but stomp in these small puddles as she trekked past them, sending splashes up forcefully. She progressed on like this for quite some ways, splashing about as the rain fell and the sun continued to rise. It was not until a flash of colour drew her attention away from her play.
While not a hue she was unaccustomed to seeing, it certain was one that she did not often see above the the water's surface. She felt concern wash through her for a moment, wondering if it was a sea creature who had swam too far from the depths, and had been washed up on shore. She hastily made her way over to it, prepared to help it if that was the case. But as she drew near, she saw that the colourful item was (thankfully) not one of the water's critters. Instead, she was surprised to find an egg. But not only was it an egg - and an extremely out of place one at that, far away from any kind of nest and tucked within the wet sand - but it was painted in flashy dyes and patterns, far from those that she knew to naturally occur on such a substance. She nudged it gently and it rolled slightly, only demonstrating further patterns on its surface. Immediately, she lifted her gaze, sending her dual-toned chasms seeking, attempting to find the other of such a bizarre item. But instead of finding an owner, all she came to find was another of such prismatic pieces, set a short distance away from the first. Curious, she strolled over it to, and investigated it just as carefully. It was just as colourful as the other, but it's patterns were different. Similar, but different. Once again she looked for any indication that an owner might be around, but found nothing. Rather, she found yet another unique egg - and another, and another. They were littered in a trail leading away from the beach, and as she wandered in their direction, she came across more and more. Tens, perhaps hundreds of these curious eggs had been left littered across the terrain! How inexplicably strange.
She found herself, without reason, beginning an intrigued assessment of each of the eggs. Some she liked more than others - some were splashed in warmer tones, vibrant apricot and saffron. Others took on a more earthy feel, depicting different shades of emeralds. Unsurprisingly, the ones she found the most striking were those that demonstrated indigo and teal, much like the crystal clear waters she was so fond of. She felt a great desire within her stir, urging her to collect those she found most alluring, to create a little stash of treasure for herself. But she was hesitant, the kinder part of herself wondering where these had come from, why they were here, and if they belonged to someone else. She could not help but wonder if just one would be missed... Surely amidst so many eggs, they could not all be accounted for, right? Her greed getting the better of her, she spent some time analyzing them all until she located one which she considered to be her favourite. She found one that was mostly deeper azure tones, with several shades of blue upon it, but with a small triangular pattern painted at the top with contrasted tints of scarlet. She quickly scanned her surroundings once more, seeing if there was anyone nearby who might notice her, but there appeared to be no one. Then, gently, she scooped the egg up in her maw. With attentive haste, she made her way back down the beach, every now and again casting a glance over her shoulder as she travelled back to the part of the shore that she frequented the most often. Once there, she found a spot tucked within rocks that would provide the little egg cover, that was also well enough away from the ocean's reach. Once implanted, she stood back to admire her little treasure... Only to find she felt that it looked a little lonely. Surely, another egg wouldn't do any harm, particularly when there was so many... Right? It was with this thought in mind, and with a smirk, that Nautica turned around once again, beginning her little journey back to the spawned eggs in order to find herself another for her collection.
PROMPT - Easter Egg Hunt BONUSES - April Showers, post 800+ words.
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Living slow and loving fast.
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She/Her
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Post by aliyaah on Apr 20, 2023 17:05:26 GMT -7
aliyaah.
It was afternoon by the time I was heading to the barn. This was pretty typical of me - I really don't like to have to get up in the morning's on my days off, unless I have to. With the fact that I didn't have a lesson scheduled for the day, that meant that I could ride whenever I wanted so long as the arena wasn't closed off. And so I drove to the barn, pleased with the warmer spring weather, the sunny blue Alberta skies, with my country music blasting in my vehicle. I arrive at the barn and try to sort myself out as I exit the vehicle - as usual, I have brought too much with me, and my arms are full. Finally, I'm sure I can at least make it to my locker, and so I head into the barn with my water bottle, coffee, and various tack pieces in tow. It's only a short wander through the barn to my locker, though I struggle to open and close the several doors I have to pass through, what with me carrying so much. Still, I'm able to get to my storage space without dropping anything, and quickly deposit my items - grabbing Boone's halter and a treat when there. With a quick glance around the barn to see if there's anyone I know around, I then head out the back and towards Boone's pasture.
Being pasture boarded, my horse is in the furthest field down the lane to the right. I pass several paddocks on my way there - always making note of the two miniature donkeys on my left, as they constantly amuse me. I walk down the dirt road, careful to avoid the several patches of muddy spots that there are - even though I've remembered to wear my boots, I try to be careful nonetheless. As I wander, I find myself constantly looking over the horses, the fencing... Not assessing or judging, but rather, seeing how the setups are done, and imagining what I might do if I was to one day own my own barn and property. What with this day-dreaming, and the fact that there are plenty of horses on the property that I am unfamiliar with, I just about missed her. She made it so that I didn't, however. For a little ways before my paint's paddock is the round pen, and inside of it, a mare. Now, I'm used to seeing a horse be housed here - this barn is so busy, that this spot is frequently used to turn out one of the horses. This one, however, I have not seen before. Normally, there's a haltered, plain chestnut in there that pays me no mind. This was not the case today. I was not walking right next to the walls of the pen, but clearly, I had gotten close enough. I hadn't even noticed that she had moved - but I immediately jumped as she crashed into the siding, a loud ring echoing in the air as her body contacted the hard metal. Surprised, I turn towards the rude horse, wondering what the hell was wrong with them, and what kind of mood they were in. I half-expected to see a stallion or something, searching for a reason to explain the unfriendly behaviour - but was instead met with the sight of a mare. And not just any mare, at that.
I created this character. I've written her for 11 years. Her colouring is plain enough - a bright chestnut with thrice splashed legs, and a straight blaze running down her face. But it was the expression that she bore on her face, demonstrating fury despite there literally being no reason to feel that way, that made me think of Sly. That, and of course as I watched her continue her motion around the restricted space, darting around and seemingly stirring up as much dirt as she could, that I saw the endless amount of scars worn upon her frame. Some of the injuries seemed fresh, flashes of red still visible even beneath her copper coat. Others bore a pinkish and greyish tone - not nearly as recent, but not having yet completely healed. It was these scars that I always considered when I wrote her, imagining her to have. I didn't think about how she would have old scars that her coat would have filled in, replacing the missing russet patches with white, indicating what damage had once been there. It was hard to figure out just how many she had, what with the fact that she would not stop moving enough for me to assess from the distance I stood. There was one scar that I looked for in particular - again, difficult for me to see, but she gave me the opportunity. She charged at me again, thumping her thin skeleton against the metal and sending a clang through the air once more. Casting me a vicious glare beneath pinned airs, she then turned herself to the left... Giving me a full on view of the right side of her face, and the thick scar running down it. The one that had been created in her fight with Grizmar, when he had torn the flesh from her face. With all these scars, the entirely savage and vile look she bore, and the slenderness to her body... She was far from an attractive horse. Yet every bit as what I would have expected her to be.
I watched her dart around the round pen for several minutes, trying to make sense of the situation. How did a character I created, something I had envisioned up, exist in real life? And how did she happen to be right before me? I was weight the probability in my mind, wondering if I was just seeing things, wondering what the chances were that this was just a Sly-look alike, when my attention was then brought to the brand carved into her shoulder. One that the site and I had come up with in order to indicate the members of the brotherhood. What the damn fuck? I thought, blinking my eyes, wondering if my pregnancy brain was fucking with me once more. I dare not go nearer to her. If she was anything like the way I wrote her, she wouldn't take well to me coming near - she had already made her disdain for me abundantly clear. In fact, I was surprised she was spending so much time just glowering at me, instead of all the horses that were boarded in the paddocks around her. After all, these would have been just the kind of horses she hated - ones that lived out their lives being pampered, mainly eating and sleeping aside from when they were being used. Maybe she would have even hated these horses more, considering their purpose was largely to serve and entertain others. But as I looked through the bars of her corral, I noticed that the other equines were no where near - she had likely already chased them to the other end of their paddocks, despite the barrier between them. I couldn't blame them. I found myself looking at the frame of the fence as she sent her hind legs kicking at it, the clash of metal filling the air again. I hoped that it would hold up... Considering I was pretty sure if she got out, it would be a massacre on the property. She was in the highest-fenced pen, and I was certain that if she wanted, she could simply jump into the other paddocks. I had to wonder if she would bother, or if she would just make a break for it. After all, a life of restraint was not for her. She'd probably rather kill herself than live a life of captivity - which almost seemed half of what she was trying to do, considering the way her coat was darkened with sweat, a lather of built up in several places, and her nostrils bloodshot to demonstrate her exhaustion. Still, she persisted in her efforts to make chaos.
I had to admit I felt kind of guilty. Guilty that I had created a character whose suffering would never end. That was forced to endure this hatred. And who was now here, for whatever reason, against her will. At this point of time, I didn't know what to do. I was pretty sure I had lost my mind, and I didn't know what to do about it. I knew I wasn't dreaming - my dreams were realistic, but this was far too absolute and undeniable. It was for that reason that I knew I couldn't just go home - I couldn't retreat back to my safe place, and potentially go back to bed as I tried to figure out why I seemed to have lost a bit of sanity. I couldn't leave Boone outside and put him at risk, not when Sly seemed absolutely determined to break out of her pen - and knowing her dedication, I knew she would... One way, or another. It was for that reason that I went and caught my little gelding - a gentle puppy dog, in comparison to the terror I had created. He would never deserve what harm would befall him at her doing if she was able to get close. I tried to skirt around the metal containment area as best as I could with him as I had to walk past again - noting how his eyes were wide and trained upon her. Didn't blame him. I hurriedly took him into the barn, ensuring every door was tightly closed behind me... And quickly started looking for someone who worked there, needing to find out information on why this wild creature was here... And if I was going to have to entirely uproot myself and my horse from this barn because of her. PROMPT - WE Turns Real BONUSES - Post 1500+ words.
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