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Post by ponyiowa on May 12, 2011 22:54:35 GMT -5
Post more soon Britnie!! Please? *begs*
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Post by Britnie Jade on May 18, 2011 19:45:33 GMT -5
Sorry! The little time I write, I do so on another story....that I hope could become a book, but uh, I also wanted two other, no, three others, stories I had started to become books...and then I got bored with them...so yeah
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Post by Kai on May 20, 2011 10:39:35 GMT -5
Me too B! And what's horrid is that my dad will read them and be amazed and say I could be published, and then I forget about the stories... I want to be published! That would be so freakin awesome!
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Post by Britnie Jade on May 21, 2011 21:56:38 GMT -5
Copperstone is still depressed. Every passing day she seems to get brighter though, so I am not worried. It must be hard to lose your own young, though I could only imagine - and besides, who needs a foal? I don't. Anyways, sometimes I think Eclipse still believes he can see his long-gone-playmate. He sometimes whinnies pitifully, looking into the distance as though he can see her. But then he goes back to being a lost soul. Poor little fellow. He is by his and my mother, Honeysuckle, nibbling on her tail. She whisks it at her flank, and when it comes back around, it smacks him in the face. He jerks his head up, then shakes his head, little ears flopping. Honeysuckle simply grazes. Bluebird and Plain stand head-to-tail of each other, sweeping insects off each other's face. Wildfire and the rest of the mares graze, along with the rest of the herd - or well, except me. I prick my ears at something rustling the grass; It must be tiny, I figure. I flick my front left hoof forward, and paw the ground three times, then sniff the slightly-bare spot I left. Whatever was there, simply was, as it is there no longer. I look at Bluebird. I remember how the sweet mare had come to the herd; her old herd, of which was only her and an old mare, had lost the stallion to something; The old mare had died of old age. That's all I managed to get from Bluebird, as the day I had asked about her old herd, she simply said, "Stallion lost his life. Mare too old, died." Suddenly, I hear a loud blow from Desperado - or maybe it's a snort. Either way, it's like a warning that there is possibly something dangerous nearby. All of the mares' heads fly up as they look into the distance; A few yearlings do too, Eclipse does, and so do I. What I see pricks my curiosity as I flick my ears toward the strange, moving objects in the air. The herd starts walking away nervously; I can tell all of the older ones seem to know what is going on. I pause, watching the air-born things come to us. There is two of them, and I follow my herd, stopping sometimes to look back as the odd creatures close in on us; Soon we hear the loud beating of their strange wings, and the herd bursts into strides, running; I follow, not sure what is going on, and if we are even in any harm. As I run along, I notice as the odd creatures get closer to us, the faster our herd runs. I don't understand why we should run so fast. These humming objects seem to only be chasing us....not hurting us? But I run behind the herd, my natural instinct telling me two things: One, stick with the herd, and two, when in doubt, run away; Instinct is a strong element. It controls my actions, for the good - that's what I gather from the others' ways. But my theory is, is what if instinct is actually cheating us? And is for the bad? I shake my head, and leap forward in a bound, as though to rid my thoughts; I need to concentrate on the present, not on my past wonderings. My ears thrum with the beating of the creatures' wings. How long have we been galloping? I have a feeling there's no telling how much longer we'll be going - we could go on for a short time, or a long time. Why doesn't my herd realize that? We are wasting energy we may need! "Desperado! Why gallop fast? Wasting -" "Rather face possible danger? No! Run." The stallion sharply says. I obey, having no other choice as I do not want to stand alone. So we go on, and on, so many strides it is uncountable to my mind. We all are gasping, trying to on, in this unbearable heat, lathered with sweat, a foamy substance between our legs. My flared nostrils suddenly pick up many scents; Many horses have passed here. Is it safe to run along this same route? We follow it anyway. Slowly but surely, I notice everyone is slowing down.... Soon, some of us are trotting. I stay at a canter, steadily passing those of which are slower. The herd is spreading out because of all the different gaits. I look ahead to Eclipse, who appears as though he is about to fall over; Honeysuckle slows to a trot. I stride toward the foal, and nuzzle him onward, trying to get him to go faster. He trips, barely re-catches himself, and continues on. Are the humming beasts trying to kill us through exhaustion? It seems like a torturous way to die. Maybe we should just stop and graze, and ignore them. Too bad my herd simply goes on. I look ahead into the distance, and my eyes barely make out odd structures. "What are they," I start as we come closer, "And why they there?" "Walls, fences. Made of similar objects as trees. Air-objects chase us in." Honeysuckle answers, her tone almost mournful. Is she sad? I do not know. It cannot be good, anyway. The scents of horses become more strong as we are chased forward. Whinnies, neighs, nickers, some of them relaxed, some of them confused, some of them worried, some of them terrified, touch my ears. How confusing. We come upon the structures, and move however-quickly-we-can between two walls, that which are higher than my head. Noises ring through my ears, scents bombard my nostrils, and all the different feelings of all the other horses make me desperate to get away. I plunge forward after my mother as we all race forward, using the little amount of energy we have left. Walls open and close before us as we stop, run, turn. Desperado, at the end of our herd, whinnies loudly, and I can hear hooves kicking a wall; I turn, trying to see what is happening. Wildfire, Cotton, and Ebony all ram into me, pushing me backwards; I barely get a glance of Desperado's black coat flashing in-between the cracks of the walls before I spin around as Wildfire snaps her teeth at me. I race forward, heart pounding... Suddenly the horses from the front back-track. It all seems a whirl as we process that we're closed in, four walls all around us. We quickly stop as exhaustion prevents us from going frantic; We're too tired to be able to care much. I notice Persimmon stands without any weight on one of her hind hooves; It isn't from her being relaxed either. She must have injured herself during the run; This isn't good. Injuries mean higher possibilities of falling prey. In my desperate running, I failed to process the creatures that seemed to be controlling what way we're going. They seemed harmless then, but now that I think about them now, I realize that they may be what controls what happens to us now. I find it odd how, the two-legged, fragile-looking creatures could control the walls.... A wall suddenly opens at one end, and though the air-creatures are gone, now one of the two-leg creatures uses some sort of long, slender branch, that seems so flexible it can be bent over itself, to create a loud popping sound behind us. Immediately we rush toward the open side of our area; Except that as soon as Honeysuckle and Wildfire run through, it closes before Ebony can; Eclipse, who is desperately trying not to get trampled, slips through when the wall is opened slightly; Ebony tries to push himself through, but ends up being blocked off. Feather nears the wall; I follow her, squeezing between others; The wall slides back enough to let her through, and she spurts through as fast as she can; I lunge after her, but the wall rushes back to close; It hits my head, and I jerk away from the wall, the thing that just conflicted pain. This process continues; All the mares are allowed through, and we all neigh and nicker and whinny for them, as our elders, the ones who lead us, are separated from us. We pace back and forth, calling on every ounce of energy we have left. Only Autumn, Ashes, Warrior, and I are left. We eventually quit pacing, finding it useless; Our mouths are dry as sand, we are as exhausted as sun-baked flies, and would love some juicy, tender grass. The wall opens wide suddenly, and the lashing branch the two-leg creature holds pops once more. We trudge through, only fueled by fear and desperation. We stumble around turns, our path not the same our elders have taken, though by many others...In fact, I think I recognize one scent, but it is too faint and mixed in with the others for me to figure out who it is. It helps me none that I'm in this condition. And then, as we turn and head down our path, the wall behind us closes, and the one ahead of us opens to reveal a large area; And in this area I can scent water. My pace quickens with the others as we soon come into the area; And when we enter, we are not alone.
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Post by Britnie Jade on May 21, 2011 22:01:04 GMT -5
Yes, Keely! And by the way everyone, if this isn't how roundups work, please excuse me, as I am not completely sure, so I wrote it the way I thought they would operate.
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Post by Kai on May 22, 2011 10:56:43 GMT -5
Nice B! XD
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Post by Britnie Jade on May 22, 2011 14:51:50 GMT -5
Thank you!
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Post by Kai on May 23, 2011 12:26:08 GMT -5
No problemo!
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Post by ponyiowa on May 30, 2011 21:26:08 GMT -5
I can't wait to see what happens next!
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