Post by Lark on Mar 20, 2007 20:41:32 GMT -5
:OhOhCookies:
Oh'kay this took way too long to make. Sorry for that, heh...
:BIC:
Oh'kay this took way too long to make. Sorry for that, heh...
:BIC:
Mold me a mare
Fill me with the boiling blood of an Arab
Stretch me to 15 hands
Color me gray as the dawn
Stain me with points black as coal
Place a strip of star shine in my mane
Stripe my hooves with blue and ivory
Taint me with emotions as wild and vengeful as the elements
Know I was set loose on this world four springs ago
Pail my eyes, leave them cold as ice chips
Dub me Echo
Ally me with none as of yet
Echo was originally from a distant cut off valley placed in a dip and surrounded by hills, swamps and to the south a small desert. From a very young age the dark coated filly would often be seen staring blankly off into the distance or sky. Things spoke to her, telling the youth things she shouldn’t know. This, along with her odd eyes and single strip of white in her black mane, is was got her in trouble.
Now understand from where Echo is from the horses are very superstitious. The fact that a filly had been foaled and believed to be a still board come back to life caused mass panic. Her mother had to fight to keep the filly from being chased off or killed because majority of the heard called the little thing a ‘bad omen’. The fact that her mother, a respected mare with a good background, had chosen to foal in the West Swamp hadn’t helped this mater at all.
Rumors of a filly with eyes white as bone and a strip of star light in her main floated around the herd, setting into play a dangerous series of events all leading up to her mother’s death and Echo being driven off back into the West Swamp. Here in this forsaken patch of land forgotten by time the hardly over a year filly met Evron, a old mare who had seen the gift in Echo. It had taken the old mare a long time to reveal what was so special in this filly but when she did it astounded even her.
Evron, being a well traveled horse had crossed paths with many but only one had possessed the gift she saw in this young horse. An elderly stallion who called himself Sliptween had told her much of the gift he called sky reading. It was nothing more then being able to see or sense things to happen though they were often unclear and warped in truth. A forewarning system if you will.
It had taken time for Echo to master her gift and not go around babbling to herself when in the trance of seeing then forgetting everything she had said. The one thing that came easily was finding witch skies were easiest for her to read with the littlest warping of the truth. For Echo, it had been twilight. In those silvery seconds, and when she looked, it became easy to sense things.
At the age of three, and after being dubbed a mare by Evron, Echo left the swamp on her own seeing that her place was some where else. After bittersweet good-bye with the closest thing the young mare had ever had to a second mother the youth set off , nose pointed towards the smell of the sea.
It had taken about a year, making Echo four springs, before she arrived on this new strange land. She had stayed a fleeting shadow for a time, watching these horses move about and how they acted. The smell of rage and past war was heavy here, but it felt safe to her. Now, after staying a mere shadow for two seasons, Echo has made up her mind to show herself.
A smart horse with a kind of teaching in all fields Echo can be called a thinker. Often musing over what she last saw in the twilight she will almost always have something on her mind. Echo is a very loyal friend but tends to be headstrong and after living in a swamp for most of her young life tends to disregard rankings which gets her into trouble. But if one cared to get to know her enough they would find Echo a rather kind hearted mare with, oddly enough, a soft spot to foals.
{This is me for forever
One of the lost ones
The one without a name}
Thunder. What a beautiful thing. It was in the sky above, forever rumbling like the belly of the hunter who missed his kill, and now it was in the dark coated mare’s hooves. Image that, thunder, in her hooves! Black velvet nose thrust forwards as the femmer increased her gate. Long legs moved in a blur of dawn gray and black as blue and ivory striped hooves cut into the earth.
{Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
All I wish is to dream again}
A shrill scream split the night, the sound ripping though the air like the lighting above and chilling all who hear it to the bone. Tail held high and main flapping in the wind the horse continued her lone journey. She was racing agent the clock now, trying to outrun the storm before night fell. If she didn’t it would be another twilight wasted. No more clues of where to go from those silvery seconds until tomorrow. The single white streak at the base of the mare’s mane seemed to glow in the ever fading light.
Thunder sounding from both the hooves of the galloping mare and the sky as large heavy drops of rain began to fall. with in moments it was a blinding down pore. The wind whipped, the air thick with summer heat and the smell of salt.
{My loving heart
Lost in the dark
For hope I'd give my everything}
White eyes gleamed with anger and desperation as the tiring mare ran on. Breath coming in gasps the femmer felt as if she were drowning with each breath. Curse the summer storms, they always made thing hard. The sound of water crashing agents rocks reached the mares black ears. They pricked forwards, the smell of salt so strong now she could almost taste it.
That was it! Up ahead the sky lightened, the end of the storm clouds. The milky red color in the clouds was fading fast, twilight was almost upon the land as the mare, a new determination in her bone white eyes, seemed to catch her second wind.
{Once and for all
And all for once
Nemo my name for evermore}
Stripped front hooves slashed at the silvering skies as back ones dug deep into the soil on the edge of the over hang. The angry sea churned beneath the rocky outcrop, sending misty gusts of salt tinged air racing up to greet the gray mare. Head thrown back the femmer gave another shrill cry, the shear pitch being hear over the waves smashing the rocks below. The sound died away as all four feet were placed back on the ground and eyes raised to the sky. The bone white orbs darted over every cloud, ribbon of mist, and rain drop that hung in the air as the mare searched for a sing.
Darkness quickly fell, leaving the femmer alone with her thoughts for the moment. Long black tail swished happily as a spark of joy lit the mare’s eyes. That was it. She had felt something pulling her south. In moments the mare was off at a gallop again, nose stretched out far in front of her as her hooves scarcely touched the ground. The night was still young as where the echo of hoof beats as the mare raced away.
A ghostly pail light seemed to hang in the mist from where the mare had stopped, leaving nothing more then an echo of the living critter that had been. This was truly what the mare was. And echo of an older bred of horse, ones not dulled by man kind ordering them around. That truly was who, and what, she was. Echo, the echo of the past.
Echo, a fading piece of the past
