Headstrong | I'll take you on! -Open-

[delirium]

regular, speech, thoughts, other(s)

"Miss mary mack, mack, mack. All dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife. Stuck in her back, back, back. She can not breath, breath, breath. She can not cry, cry, cry. That's why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die, die." What a peculiar song to have in one's mind-no? And for the life of her, the poor little mare couldn't even begin to figure out why she had such a song-as this, stuck in her head. She tilted her head, amused, as green gray eyes glittered at the reflection in the small stream.

How odd indeed. She shook out her fluffy white and chestnut mane, as her tiny form slid closer to the water's edge. She started with the tip of a cream hoof, letting it glide into the water, before being followed by another, until she was ankle deep in the tiny stream. Glancing around, the small, delicate mare lowered her muzzle into the water, carefully keeping an eye out as she drank the cool, sweet tasting liquid. Once her thirst had been quenched, she looked up at the sky, her eyes focusing on a half illuminated moon that was just above the western horizon. Which meant it was nearing mid morning. The third quarter moon was clear enough for the astronomical intelligent mare. She twitched her ivory tail before turning and trotting back onto the bank, before continuing her slow journey along these odd weaklands.

Her small height was used as an advantage-of course. No one wanted to do much to a 15.2 hands mare-unless it was to ridicule. And that rarely bothered her now a days, unless it was an obvious slash at her height. Now that made for an interesting, but angry little girl. She was walking along casually-when the first wave of a bad day hit. It was in the form of a tiny palomino, obviously half draft foal running towards her with panicked expression. Miss! Miss! Please! Help! They're coming! Had the foal been any older, she wouldn't have managed to hide behind Nash as well as she did. Instantly concerned, the mare stood straighter, looking around for what had frightened the poor 'dear.'

Found her, boys. A gruff voice echoed around her, and before Nash could even pinpoint the direction, four large draft males had surrounded herself and the foal. Ah, look how considerate your daughter is, she brought us another little thing to play with. A slight tick above her eye, befell the tiny mare. little was not a word she liked to hear. She growled coyly, as she straightened the best she could. Attempting to make herself seem bigger. Defiantly not real help there. You couldn't make 15.2 hands seem any larger than 15.2 hands. Of course, that didn't stop her... "Who the hell are ya, to frighten a child like this? Do ya see the state yer puttin' her in? Have ya no care for her own feelin's j.ck.ss? Have ya no care for her well bein'?" The southern tones left her muzzle in a soft, gentle, but aggressive tone, as she held her head high, attempting to appear every much the taller mare. Of course, never would that action work... But she'd sure as hell try...

The large drafts, of course, only laughed. How amusing, a tiny thing appearing to be big. How about you go play with someone your own size, aye, sweetheart? Leave the big kids with the big kids... You'll only get hurt, if you know what I mean... Oh boy.... However, with a foal involved.... still every part of her wanted her to bow down to these larger beings. Extremely larger beings... If there was anything to make the tiny girl act submissive, it'd be larger stags, much larger stags. You don't want to get hurt, do you sweetheart. Go be a dear, and run off... They chuckled as she meekly bowed her head, though she didn't run yet... the foal whimpered, before scurrying off to find someone else to protect her... She'd merely choose to small of a protector. As they ran off, the mare sighed, closing her eyes, as she frowned to herself, "Very well played, Nashira." She told herself, bitterly. "Ain't you just the most perfect piece o' shit." Once again, she'd failed when faced with a trouble, a problem... she just couldn't get past. That stupid, annoying height issue... Though she shouldn't have such a big issue. It wasn't like she was that small either... Just... compared to the larger drafts... A sigh ran through her body, her two tone pelt rippling over extremely taunt muscles as she forced herself to relax and shake it off. She closed her eyes, before snapping them open and shaking her chestnut and ivory toned tresses. A final stomp on the ground, and the female was in action once more, her entire body stretching to it's limits, before withdrawing into itself, legs folding towards her belly, before they'd snap out again. Running. Racing time, space, air itself.

Running to just run. it had been longer than she cared to admit since she had done something so free. She slowed slightly, as the forest she had been running through faded into a large meadow, that seemed oddly empty and desolate for the beauty it seemed to hold. SHe looked around, feeling what could be a peaceful air to the land, though an under lining of darkness tempted one to believe that this 'majestic ness' might not be as wonderful as one might originally believe. "But it ain't like I'm afraid or nothin'. 'Cause I can take care of meh self. Ain't nothin' gonna happen ta me. Ain't no one stupid enough to mess with me! I'm untouchable!" She half growled before folding her legs in, and allowing herself to drop to the ground beneath a tree. Ain't nothing gonna happen to her. That was all she could hope.

Tags: None
Words: 989
Notes: Blahhhh
Credits: 'kae of The Secret for post template

[GREYtheFLAiLER]

SiNiSTER


Let the fun and games begin,
She is vain and broken.
Skin is cold and white,
Such a lovely, lonely night...

[/i]


.xXx. [/color]Such a beautiful day it was, as most would believe. The sun was out, casting its warmth and light throughout the land; the sure sign of summer. However, is was a downside for everything, that is, indeed, certain. And Sinister, being the undeniably negative steed he tended to be, thought of a downside to the supposedly beautiful day rather easily. The heat was absolutely merciless, and the large, red stallion often found himself looming amongst the shadows of the trees, because of this. He wasn’t truly bothered by the heat, although darkness, was, well... his calling. It wasn’t only his alliance, but also a shelter; a tool to track prey. Not that Sin thought of mares as prey.

Of course not.
Who, him?
Nah.

A devilishly amused smile curved the brute’s lips as he thought of such things, and a light, silent chuckle slipped through parted lips. He shook his skull, freeing his mane of any settled dust and dirt, before continuing his little stroll throughout the open forest. It didn’t provide much shelter for him, however he was happy to make do with the resources he had. Sinister was always one to do anything he could to have entertainment and, trust me, if that meant lurking about in the forest in search of a lone mare... Well, he made no exceptions. Call him desperate, if you wish. But it’s the truth. Sin was determined to gain more members for his herd, and if he was lucky, a Light slave or two. The stallion bobbed his head as he walked, his nostrils flaring as the mid-morning breeze rolled past him. Oh. Now, now. What was that, stunning little scent? Sinister rose a brow, before turning, and picking up into a flawless trot. His taught muscles rippled beneath his crimson pelt as he advanced, before lurching to a complete halt near a small creek.

A mare.
And a group of large stallions.

Now, Sinister was large. Larger than most around here, which was slightly odd, given his slight Arabian lineage. However, these brutes, the few that surrounded the miniscule-looking mare, were absolutely huge. Sinister was always up for a fight, but knew he would be outnumbered when against them. He observed with narrowed eyes as the stallions soon jogged off, and the mare, out of nowhere, raced off into the depths of the forest. Immediately the chestnut stallion’s ear perked, his head jerking up abruptly, before he took off after her in silent pursuit. His hooves pounded against the soft earth, kicking up dirt and debris behind him as he raced onwards. His head, in return, bobbed forwards with each and every powerful stride, as the stallion galloped through the scattered trees. He swerved easily around his obstacles, his chestnut mane and tail whipping behind him. This, this thrill, was what Sinister loved so entirely much. He loved the chase, the adrenaline... Everything. She didn’t know he was following.

But that was half the fun.

The stallion slowed once she was in his sight once again, her painted pelt not nearly blending in with the forest background. Light shone down from the trees, dappling the ground and her pelt alike as she ran, and Sinister felt his eyes linger on the way she moved; her flanks as she ran. Another small smirk curved his maw, before he slowed to a halt, mirroring the mare’s actions. He could hear her speaking, though. His brow furrowed, just slightly, as the stallion sauntered closer, ears swivelling this way and that, eagerly drinking up the sound of her unique voice. Another small chuckle left him as he edged closer, until the stud came to a halt a few feet away from the laying mare. Immediately, he let out a harsh, loud snort, his nostrils quivering with adrenaline. Only once he was sure she’d heard, the stallion trotted closer, though his gait was restrained, excited. His neck arched resiliently, his chin brushing lightly against his hard and muscular chest, as he approached. A deep, throaty nicker left him, as he flicked his tail against his flank with certain harshness.

“I wouldn’t quite consider yourself as untouchable, Love, though the speech was very inspirational.”

He spoke slowly, his masculine lyrics both seductive, mocking, and speaking entirely of dark intentions. His nostrils quivered, drinking in her scent eagerly, as his eyes raked over her small body. Mmm, he enjoyed the look of her. And the accent? Well, that just made it all the better. Sinister had plans, for this little lady.

Heaven is on the way,
You can feel the hate,
but I guess you never will.
I'm on a roll again,
and I want an end,
'Cause I feel it creeping in...

Words: 821
Muse: Alright-ish
Notes: Sorry if it fails. D; [/size][/blockquote]