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 Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 10:34 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Selena
SW's Temper: virulent
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
Spasms of pain caused flashes of light, glimpses of what had been. Like falling petals or autumn leaves, they drifted in eerie slow motion about her agonized mind. One touched her shoulder, and she arched in pain as the memory flooded her mind's eye.
"It is your duty, Selena," her mother intoned sternly. "This is the life you and I were born to, and it is our responsibility to uphold the traditions." Her mother was beautiful, standing over her that way, a righteous light shining in her eyes, horn spiraling to the evening sky. To the filly, it looked as if that horn could heal the very stars that glimmered above it. "Now come. Let me teach you how to use the gift you were born with."
The memory melted beneath the heat of her pain. Tears streamed from her eyes, not so much out of sadness but out of sheer terror. One eye rolling, her breath rasped in her throat as she watched another piece of her past drift lazily towards her face. She tried to flinch away, but was pinned in place by pincers of fear and agony. With a garbled cry, she was swallowed in another memory.
Her horn could not save her mother. She had tried. Tears froze on her cheeks, staring down at the bloody mess that had been her mother's throat. She had howled to the wind in despair and fury, "What did she do to deserve this?" Her hooves had torn at the bloodied snow, grown pink as the heat of the life-giving substance melted the winter's blanket. Heedless to the insanity of it, she cried to the uncaring dusky sky above her, "Why have you done this? Why have you let this happen?" Her mother was gone forever, leaving her alone to carry on in her hoofprints. The entire mountain's denizens would look now only to her.
Granted, her mother had taught her well. She knew her business. But what was life alone? Her heart ached unbearably, making her forget the sharp bite of the freezing wind. She fell to her knees beside the corpse of the only one who had ever cared for her. Surely her life would end here and now, beneath the stony stars.
A scream tore her out of her dreams... or were they memories? It was growing harder to focus as her body was wracked with convulsions. Froth dripped from her mouth as she gaped it open for breath. Her horn dug a furrow in the ground as she arched her back in a vain attempt to drag off this binding hide that encased her. Her lungs heaved, but just as she drew breath for another scream, another light touch of a drifting thought overtook her.
This summer had brought with it sickness. She knew not if there were any others of her kind that could be found, but the responsibility drilled into her by her mother refused to let her rest. She spent all daylight hours with her horn brushing the various hides and feathers of those who came to her, or were carried to her, to be healed of this prevading plague. They at least left her once the sun set, leaving her all alone to sag and wilt beneath the stars. Often she merely dropped where she stood and slept dreamlessly in exhaustion.
This night was different, however. She stared up at the first evening stars and felt an aching sense of despair. Alone and lonely, she wished mightily for the return of her mother. Life had improved after her initial grief, but her life at this moment was barely worth living. Even the grateful thanks of parents with healed young no longer sustained her. She was used up, with nothing more her heart could give. It had grown cold and dull with lack of love. She healed for the sake of her mother alone now.
When she came to this time, the pain was fading. Replacing it was a rage, and a thirst. Heaving huge bellows of breath as if she had been running for hours, she got unsteadily to her feet, her thick tail balancing her wobbly movements. The sound of water nearby didn't even faze her. It was not water she craved. No, it was... blood.
A last flicker of memory, that of blood on snow, seared her mind and filled her heart with cold hunger. Yes, blood on snow, beneath the stars. The horn on her brow was to become a perversion... a lure and a fatal tool. She knew instinctively they would come. They would seek her out for the very horn she bore. They would come, and she would slaughter.
The world's softest of soquili-kind, that with gentle horn of healing, had been turned to a wicked soul of malice and hate. There would be blood on the snow of the mountain, glimmering beneath the stars and reflecting the visage of the newest nocturnal killer. They would seek her for her kindness, and would fall beneath her claws, her teeth, her horn. The very idea had her salivating as she slipped into her feline form as if it were second nature, something she had done her whole life.
Tonight the shadows would be stalked in this land as they had never been before. Evil lurked beneath the pelt of stars and sky, and any who came to this dark soul for healing would without a doubt be coming to her to die.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 10:40 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Philomena - greek; "lover of the moon"
SW's Temper: Adamant
Prompt Response:
The perfect balance between purity of the Unicorn and mischief of a one night stand. Philomena felt neither as she lay, crippled by the stranger's magic powder, her sweaty coat lit by her moon. Magic. She'd snort if her nasal passage was functioning. Or was it the only thing functioning? She heard heavy breathing, but it certainly couldn't be her own.
It now seemed silly that she'd actually believed in such a bribe. A shady two-legger in an animal's pelt, speaking with strange gestures, unnecessary due to her newfound ability to understand his language, had earlier strummed the strings of her desire, wielding promises of a better future. A glorious future like no other horse would live to experience. She could see her verdant eyes reflected in his ocular voids. A disgusting sight now that the memory flashed through her head: her eyes wide and eager, naive with her mother's purity.
Another thought concurred with the other, and she instantly recalled the instance in which her mother first told Phila of her own woeful past. Of the father that used, then left her mother pregnant. Pregnant with two children of which one survived. 'Three guesses who.' Apparently, Philomena got in the way of her sister's birth. Being a slight larger than the usual child, she gave her mother difficulty birthing, and, with a delayed exit, her unnamed twin was stillborn.
The prospect of tears burned the rims of her eyes. Or was it the curse going into effect?
One delicate cloven hoof placed in front of the next... A petite blue Unicorn mare brooded near the serenity-inspiring scene of a waterfall. The rocks protruding forth from the cliff tore its delicate fabrics and made the whole mess appear as if it were a face. A sorrowful face, weeping and torn. But nonetheless familiar. Her subconscious swung her head to the left to encompass within her green orbs a true, realistic face. A gangling grin stretched across his features, hardened by the elements. His ragged, split hair fell across his eyes, but even they wore a smile. Loveable features...
No! Her teeth - now fangs - bore against the mere thought of such pansy things. Her stomach moved abnormally with the eagerness to heave off her earlier vegetarian lunch.
The same stallion, now closer. She felt his presence even though her vision's eyes were firmly fixated on the night sky above. A light, content sigh escaped her lungs and she turned, with a sudden lust, to check over her companion's shape. His build was muscular, strong. He would go to the ends of the world to protect her, and she knew this. At first, his head was tilted upwards as hers had been, but a warmth encompassed her cheeks as she noticed his gaze shift worriedly with his head at a slight tilt at her strange antics...
Phila snarled out loud, feeling her very soul being torn apart. 'What are these images inside my head!?!' They weren't hers. Not any longer.
While she was earlier a blushing, conflicted character, she could now see that same character as a hearty meal. Philomena was now strong and sure. She could take on and down any Soquili; a smug confidence burned through her veins. Her eyes slid open seconds after a demented grimace tainted her lips. Making like the "medicine man", she'd walk in the moonlight, stealing lost souls. Each night, she would feast beneath the stars. Each night, she would collect a new, sweat-laden pelt of her victim.
Another, last memory took its turn just then: The stallion that had appeared so frequently before was now wounded and kneeling before her, his eyes desperate and tortured. Kneeling because each marrow in his once-powerful legs was split. Kneeling because he'd no other choice.
But wait - that wasn't a memory at all. No, it was a self-told fortune.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 5:28 am
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Atsila Galvkawetiyu
(Means 'Sacred Fire')
SW's Temper: Obsessive
Prompt Response:
The searing pain that flashed through his body made Atsila raise up, his mouth opening in a twisted distortion, a strangled roar making its way forth through the open gap in his body. This only caused him to breathe in yet more of the strange substance the fur-clad human had tossed into his face. Why? Why had he agreed to do this? It burnt his lungs and filled his veins with a fire so reminisant of his pelt patterns. A deeply amused chuckled made its way through his searing brain, and the Kalona lashed out, his tail and horns hitting only air. As red covered his vision, Atsila screeched out. What had he agreed to? He had been told he would have strength immeasurable to that he already possessed! He craved power! Why was he dying, as surely this beast of a human laughed! The red covered his vision completely, and the Kalon reared and kicked out, thrashing his head to free his head from the encompassing redness. It was so like his blood-lust, but it felt so different. He cried out once more before his body heaved its last breath and he toppled to his side.
"Atsila... Atsila, what are you doing you fool! Get up this minute before I drag you..."
Mother? Mother why are you being so mean? I didn't mean to be such a failure to you! I just... I just find death such a fearful thing. I'm sorry mother, please, please don't hate me... I can't help my ways! I'm only a foal! I can learn, I promise you, I will learn! The smell of blood disturbs me. Please understand mother, I'm afraid...
"Come on Atsila!! You are a Kalona born!! You must get these fancies from your head!"
THWAK
No father!!! Please, please don't hate me! I can't help being who I am!! I will try! I will find my blood-lust! I promise father, I will!! Just don't hate me father! Teach me, take me with you on your travels! Show me how to enjoy the kill, not fear it...
Don't leave!! I'm too young to be alone!!! I won't survive! NO FATHER!!! NO!!! Mother!!! Please mother! Where are you? I can't find you, but your death-scent is so thick and cloying on father's muzzle! What did you do mother? Tell me where you are...
"You? You're a Kalona! Why don't you attack? After all, I'm just a mere snack to you?
...
You don't eat Soquili? That's weird! I thought all Kalona were weird like that! I mean, you know, the stories aways say such, don't they!!"
I don't want to remember her! She was my friend! Why do you show me her! She was so sweet, so innocent!! Just an innocent foal, no family... Just like me. She walked the woods with me, she kept me company. She showed me the woods, the rivers, the hills.
...
Her blood was so sweet though...
"Oh bother!!! I've scrapped my knees!! That was close! I could have broken my.... Atsila? Why are you looking like that? Your pupils... NO!!!"
So sweet...
"I'm proud of you son. You have finally lived up to the name of Kalona spawn!!! Your mother would be pleased to see this day."
No.
"Why do you glare so? Are you not pleased you are finally Kalona?"
No.
"Get away from me putrid creature! You dare fight me!!!"
No...
"Son... Know that... Know that I always dispised you... You were a failure. You will be nothing."
No...
Atsila slowly opened his eyes. Around him, the red tinge of the curse was receeding. He sighed, and glared around. Things were different. His body felt weighted by something, and as he gathered himself and stood, there was a human there, looking at him with eerie eyes that weren't really there. Atsila snorted, shook himself.
And felt fur.
It was long, and it clung to him like a cloak, and he realised why his eyesight was so strange. He peered through the mask of a dead creature, and as he turned his head to look at himself, sniffed at the fur, he realised it was a wolf pelt. He saw he had wings that weren't restricted by this strange mantle of long fur, this pelt, which was nice. He glared back at the human, confused and needing answers. However, as he looked at this human, this thing that stood before him, he realised he knew nothing. He knew names of things, what things were, and he knew his name. Atsila.
"What's going on? Who are you?" His voice was gruff and held a hint of a growl. He took a step toward the human, and it shook its head, laughter spilling forth.
"Ahhh, Atsila Galvkawetiyu!!! My Sacred Fire! You shall spread through the lands like a murderous blaze and devour all that stands before you. You understand me?"
The Skinwalker looked at the human, and slowly nodded his head. Though this was a human, it spoke to him in his own tongue, so he felt inclined to listen to it. It spoke of devouring, and it sounded like fun to the Skinwalker. His vision clouded a moment with a red tint, and Atsila shook his head. Blood-lust filled his veins with a comforting burn, and he turned away from the human. His wings flapped. He remembered this feeling, but he didn't understand why... The thought of blood filling his mouth was too tempting, and as such, he lifted from the ground, wings taking over mechanically. Below, the human laughed with such vehemence, Atsila could not help but smile along with him. Yes. He'd make the human proud, and spread like a wild fire, devouring all that stood in his path. He was Skinwalker, and he was Kalona. He was the sacred, cleansing fire that would breathe its dying breath over the lands and rule it, leaving behind destruction all encompassing.
It made his blood tingle with the mere thought.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 6:04 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Ailylaeli
SW's Temper: Tainted
Prompt Response:
Innocence.
That was the meaning of her name...a bitterly ironic thing, for there was nothing innocent about what she had become. She was a killer now, who found nothing more satisfying than hearing the terror-filled screams of her victims as they realized that not even unicorn blood was proof against the hellish doom of a skinwalker's curse. Not even a healing horn could protect against the vile transformation, the lust for blood and gore.
Nostrils flaring as she scented the warming spring air for hints of prey, a memory began rising in the back of her mind. With a sneer of disgust, she tried to shove it away, holding no patience for recollections of the weak, empathetic, loving creature she had been. But like a worm nibbling away at the inside of an apple, the memory insidiously worked its way to the forefront of her mind.
Laughing, running, playing, loving...they had been inseparable. Her mate had been one of the few who did not care that she was impure, who saw her as only a soul craving the approval and adoration and another. Her mother never looked at her with so pure a love...no, her love had been mingled with shame that she had tarnished her bloodline so. A night of careless passion had resulted in Ailylaeli's birth, and her mother had never quite forgiven her for it. But Pystaer had been different from the very beginning. And ultimately...it had cost him his life.
She'd been such a fool to take the shaman's offer. Having never seen such a curious creature, she had never imagined that he might harbor ill intentions. But as he had smiled that mysteriously wicked smile, as the corpse powder had blinded her sight and choked her breathing, something in her had undergone a change. When next she could see again, it was with a distant, glassy-eyed gaze, as though something within her were still battling for what remained of her soul.
As she drew close to the clearing she and Pystaer shared, Ailylaeli's gait was stiff, unnatural. Even her movements spoke of a war being waged within, and with visible alarm the stallion arose to meet her. "What's wrong, my dearest? Are you ill, or injured?" Overcome with worry, he reached his muzzle towards the half-breed mare that had become his entire world.
Something seemed to snap within the starry-coated mare at the movement, her glazed stare focusing into a hungry look. With a vicious swing of her head, her horn met Pystaer's neck, sinking through the flesh with the ease of a stone sinking into water. With a wordless whimper, the stallion--now an unknown stranger--sank to his knees, eyes begging to know the reason why.
Why? Ailylaeli's mind echoed the question for the briefest of moments, and it was to answer herself that she spoke aloud.
"Because I want to."
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 7:42 am
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Sir Kogeru
SW's Temper: Burning
Prompt Response:
Burning, was the meaning of his name, it was kind of ironic that he felt a burning pain when he took the powder.
Sir Kogeru's eye burnt, as Usgasetityu Oyohusa could see the powder was working. Naturally a kalona has a great amount of rage in them wanting to come out.
Sir Kogeru managed to contain most of his,until the night when he took the chance.
His skin burned where the Pelt appeared, and the look in his eyes had changed.
His voice became deeper and an invisible flame burned into his eyes, he roared with pain and anger, trying to destroy the two legger, but he couldn't get close enough and passed out.
Sir Kogeru had a family he didn't love them, they didn't love him.
They respect each other but treat the women and the weaker like objects or possessions. His brother was the one his brother like most out of them, he was eviler, and so he did go to the two legger for help.
Just to stab him in the back?
He had hardly anything to lose so he went for it.
Just to wake up with a banging head ache, watering eyes, stronger senses of smell and hearing.
And the most important thing, the want to kill, he had usually been able to keep it back but it was burning into him.
He didn't remember a thing none of his family, not his dad nor his brother.
He was now cold and couldn't take anything lightly.
Only two things were in his head, his name and the want to kill the first soquili he saw, without intent of holding back.
((I hardly enter theese i'm not so good, sorry for it being so short. Kept it clean.))
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:13 am
Misread the rules, editing entry to my first.
Sorry for the trouble!
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 11:03 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Sarathi
SW's Temper: Impressive
Prompt Response: It was as if a flame was spreading over once-clear vision. A burning haze, spreading higher and higher as the heat intensified, flickering painfully in the skull. This degree of pain was entirely new to the thrashing mare, and not one she wanted to be acquainted with for long. The slim ivory horn that rose towards the sky as her body strained against the pain was, for once, rendered utterly useless to her. A coarse laugh broke through the rushing in her ears, and a light hand ran down her mane. Once again, the words were intelligible to her, but the sentiment was not lost. No, not entirely. One final comfort before death, she had given the same many times.
To hope for a stronger power, to help herself become something greater. What a foolish hope for any half-bred child! The thundering in Sarathi's ears grew stronger and stronger, and through the red haze, a memory formed in her brain. A bright waterfall surrounded by foals. Tasty, delicious, easy bait. No, that was wrong! Wasn't it? There was a familiar flavor to this scene, and had her mind been all there, she could easily have told what would come. Many foals had gathered to play, while their parents grazed in fields nearby. The stones were slippery, and dangerous. Of course, in their roughhousing...one fell.
Legs shattered, and a low growl ripped through the mare's mind. 'Strike now! It's down, you can have two in this meal!' What would have been a beautiful memory of a child's first miraculous healing, was drowned in the primal need to feed on this weak meat. Beauty drowned in the vulgar want of blood, and almost as if washed away by the waterfall itself, the image faded, fleeing away into the night from this feral mind.
Washed again in the color of pain, vision cleared once more. The foal had grown into a pale blue mare, the clear of the sky reflected in her glossy coat. Seen this way, from an outsider's eye, the unicorn was struck by how nicely she fit into the scene. Pity she would never stand so again. Around her in a herd, were similar types to her own. No longer was she grouped with the powerless, luckless Soquili! No, she was weak, but still a proud healer, a unicorn in her own right. And she stayed with her own. Moving about, healing as best she could. Though her best was not usually enough. This was such a time, where, had she been a whole beast, she could have saved a mother and foal. A kind old Elder admonished her gently, asking if she really thought she was meant for this.
Violently, she rejected this! In a moment, the memory twisted. Instead of gentle regret, and determination to continue on her path by any means, there was boundless disgust. With a scream and a lunge, the old bones cracked beneath her hooves. Legs broken, unable to move, eyes white with fear. The rush was nearly sexual, and blood pumped right beneath the thin membrane of skin. In the twisted memory, she heard her own once-melodious voice. “Are you sure you should be healed? I am, after all, not sure this is my path.” Cruelty flowed like poison, dripping from every word. “But I will be benevolent.”
Horn dipping, the legs healed, albeit not quite rightly. There would be slower movement, and a limp. As the fear started to drain from the old unicorn's face, Sarathi took her moment, and lunged for the neck. Several bites, and a quick twist, a loud snap. The old one was dead beneath her, and the ancient blood was sweet on her lips. The quietly determined half-bred healer, so dedicated to making the world as bright as she was, was only a monster now.
The red flames in her brain were burning brightly now, consuming everything she was, and everything she had been. The funeral pyre for the unicorn Sarathi, and the hammer that was forging her into a cold, steely animal. Whimpers of pain and fear soon grew into the gentle hissing and snarling of the large cats. Dangerous rumbles that took on a comforting, lovely sound. She might have wondered that she was entirely sane, but all thoughts of sanity had been burnt out along with her memory. What did such things as sanity matter, when this glorious strength was forming in her mind, and against her bones?
The twisted memory of that altered healing was the shining example of the life she had chosen. Now she would be able to heal, and then, and then! Oh the thoughts brought shivers to her flesh, hair standing on end in something akin to sensual ecstasy. Sarathi would pound her legacy into the dirt of this land, blood mashed into the very stones themselves.
Slowly, the burning smell receded, but the flames were still there, a banked red haze across her once-beautiful eyes. Gentle care had once perpetually beamed from her eyes, but now all that existed there was a lust for death and to make this place a barren waste. The sheen of it would forevermore warn all beasts away from her, but what did she care?
She was Sarathi, and she was power!
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 11:26 am
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Angra Mainyu (the source of all evil in Persian myths it means “evil” or “devil” )
SW's Temper: corrupt
Prompt Response: Red, all that he had ever seen was painted that color. It was so purifying, the act of staining the earth the color crimson. After all, the world was rotten; all he had ever done was dispose of a few weeds. Those species that simply wanted a peaceful life while destroying lives of others, they smiled happily as they strangled out the chance for anyone but themselves to live. Weeds, that’s what they were, killing out the things that actually meant something. That’s why it was his job to stomp out the weeds; the task assigned to him after watching the one thing he actually cared about had been smashed like an insect beneath their merciless feet.
Now it was his merciless hooves that smashed their pitiful lives into dust. Angra Mainyu never could manage to find anything that brought him any happiness, not since his vision had been painted red by the loss of his foal hood friend. At least he had considered her to be a friend; she was another Kalona, so pure and innocent unlike the rest of their kind. An outcast. She had merely stumbled his way after being bullied by the other foals; her face had been streaked with tears when she ran into him.
It was only the next day that he had found her ruined body, this time smudged with blood in place of tears. Her body lay in a crumpled heap and he had nudged it with his nose. Pitiful. After that his mind went blank, unable to remember what happened next.
Now it was he lying in a crumpled heap, filled with unbearable pain, the likes he had never felt before. What was this magic? What had happened to him? Surely that pathetic two-legger he had targeted was not capable of taking him down? He opened his mouth to scream out in rage, but the pain. The pain. It prevented anything more than a whimper from escaping his maw. Pathetic. He was a killer and to be seen reduced to something like this… If he managed to survive this pain he would surely get revenge on the two-legger that had reduced him to a whimpering pile. If only he could survive this with his mind intact.
Two-leggers were so weak, so easy to scare, so easy to kill. It seems he had underestimated them, never again would that happen. He should have known something was up when this one spotted him and was foolish enough to try to start a conversation. Angra had been planning on killing the two-legger, but he was so shocked that it actually understood his words that he had briefly forgotten. ‘Should have… killed it without… hesitation.’ He thought, struggling with the pain that seemed to burn him from the inside out like he was enflamed.
He moaned and with one last gasp… Suddenly it was all over and a furious snarl erupted loudly from his body. His form was no longer a crumpled heap, but something stronger, something that could truly purify the land of it’s filthy life that slowly strangled all that had meaning like a noose about it’s neck. Life was a disease, a plague upon the earth and he had to eradicate it, crush it to bloody smithereens. No mercy. Those pathetic beasts did not deserve the pity that they pleaded for, just death.
His great figure rose from the dust, more powerful then ever and with a thirst for blood like no other. No one could satisfy the rage that consumed him; no one life would be sacrifice enough to please him, to stop him. On powerful legs he took to running, the scent of his newest prey filling his nostrils. Not far. Not far now, before he would begin his reaping of souls, cleansing the earth.
“So this is destiny.” A smirk danced across his face as he ran past trees and bushes, stronger now then ever before. Before? There was no such thing, time was irrelevant, there was only life and death.
His hooves pounded along the ground before he stopped, the scent was strong now, perhaps they were just behind this tree? He gazed out and took another deep breath, there they were. Already he could smell the warm blood that travelled through their veins. Already he could taste the metallic liquid on his tongue, he could see their tortured bodies, hear their tortured screams drifting through the night air, and it was done.
Without realizing it, he had sprung from the bushes, running towards the small family like the demon from hell he had become. The stallion had oh so bravely blocked his path, a pathetic attempt to protect his family. Oh so pathetic. Within seconds the stallion was out of the way, now his body lay on the ground, a mess of blood and torn flesh. Next came the mother, who had been urging her foals to run away, foolishly their eyes had been locked on their fathers mangled form and could not move. The mare was easy to kill, like a twig snapping beneath his hooves he snapped her neck with his powerful jaws. And she fell too. “Heh,” the one sound that could be heard escaping his lips before the two foals screamed out in pain, joining their parents in death’s embrace. They too fell to the ground, just like their parents, just like she had, without mercy. Wait she? It didn't matter and he shook his head with a growl, narrowing his eyes as he gazed down at their corpses.
A frown formed on his lips, he hadn’t even gotten to enjoy the killing, it was much too quick, better then what they deserved. He didn’t bother to stop and have a tiny little “snack”. He had a job to do, people to kill. Lost time could not be regained and the next Soquili he ran into, well he would be sure died properly, after suffering from prolonged torture, which he could enjoy.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 1:06 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Amaya
SW's Temper: Merciless
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
Darkness slowly consumed the land, turning the day into night. No one was around, except a small unicorn mare. Amaya walked around the dark night, enjoying her favorite time of the day. An interesting creature appeared from the shadows, a human. This human looked so strange. He wore a pelt and attracted Amaya's curiosity with the fact that he could communicate with her. Quickly gaining her trust, he offered her a powder. He told her it would change her into a completely different creature. Becoming another animal seemed completely unreal, but Amaya let her curiosity get the better of her.
Pain suddenly attacked the mare, she felt as though her insides were on fire. Amaya looked around for the human, but everything was simply red and too blurry for her to see anything. Was she dying? No, she couldn't be dying! Memories of her past decided to sneak out from where they were hiding in her brain, memories she would soon forget completely. The time she helped some lost foals, the time she met her mate, everyone loving her and how social she had once been. Pictures of her mother and father flashed in front of her eyes then faded. Everything slowly faded away, the pain and memories, she forgot it all.
As time came back to her and things became clearer, Amaya looked around the strange land. She could only remember one thing, that she was Amaya. The blue mare suddenly felt thirsty. Water wouldn't quench this thirst; she needed blood. Now, she was on the prowl, swift as a cat and quiet as a mouse. A small clearing came into view and a few horses were out. All she wanted was any blood she could acquire.
At full speed, she raced down the hill and attacked the small herd. Her horn dug into some while her teeth met with other's throats. Those that had once known the sweet mare she once was, were confused by the sudden attack and the odd pelt on her back. They feared what she had become. Slowly, every herd member was soaked in their own blood with long cuts along them from her horn only Amaya was still breathing. The night was suddenly quiet.
The foals that looked up to Amaya, the elders that loved her company, and the others that thought she was the perfect mare were now dead because of the very thing they loved. Did she feel any regret? No, in fact she wanted to do it again. She wanted to see the fear struck faces, she wanted to hear the loud screams of pain she had caused, and she wanted to taste the sweet crimson liquid once again. Now, she traveled in the night, looking for her next victims. Everyone deserved to die...
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 1:48 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Kadriel
SW's Temper: Revengeful
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
Fire, fire all around her. Her flesh twisted across layers of muscle that twitched and burned. She threw up her head in a shrill of agony, but it came out strangled, animal. Her entire body shuddered. Heat splashed over her in waves, licking at her legs and neck and face and she pressed her pale eyes shut.
That pelt-wearing two-leg just stood there, watching her with a pleased smile on his dark face.
Her heart ached. It was so fitting that a mare like herself would become a true beast...
Blood ate into the earth little by little, pooling out around the rip in the stallion's throat. His eyes were wide, the whites showing wildly as he thrashed once, twice, and then fell heavily to the ground. His leg twitched and stilled.
She stared. Her mind was numb and her limbs tingled with the sudden urge to flee.
Her horn dripped with crimson, trailing down the thin spear and trickling down her fur, into her eyes. She was blinded by red and blinked furiously. When her vision cleared, she was no longer alone.
"Kadriel! What in Heaven's name..."
Father's stern gaze flew from her bloodied horn to the herd's fallen protector. Kadri's ears flicked back, her heart suddenly filled with uncertainty. "F-Father--"
Mother stepped close, her lion's tail flicking behind her. "Oh, baby..." Her eyes were filled with sorrow and her tears were already making tracks down her cheeks. "What have you done... You were an angel! You were destined to be our Healer..."
Father's lips rose in a sneer. "It's that damned horn, Ambrie! It's been nothing but trouble since she was born!" He took a step forwards, so menacing that Kadriel pranced back two steps. "We have to break it off. We have to break the curse..."
"No!" Kadri's scream was echoed by her mother's, the full-blooded uni looking pained. "Keatyn, you can't. She will be forever broken!"
"Then she will be broken."
"No," Kadriel murmured. "You can't do this. Father, please!"
Keatyn lunged forwards, his teeth bared. They closed on the tender flesh of his daughter's shoulder, tearing away. Blood sprang to the surface and a cry rose up. Keatyn's breaths came quick and heavy and his eyes were filled with ice. "You are no daughter of mine."
He made to lunge again, but Ambrie caught him, her own slender horn tearing a slice in his cheek. Keatyn looked shocked and his mate turned to their daughter hurriedly.
"You should leave..."
"Where am I supposed to go?"
Mother closed her eyes and touched the tip of her own horn to Kadriel's. "I don't know," she murmured sadly. "But this is the second accident in a year and...we can't afford for it to happen again. I'm so sorry..."
"Father?"
Keatyn turned his back on her, striking pain into the young mare's heart. Slowly she looked down once more at the stallion who had merely been teaching her how to spar before things had gone horribly twisted. She backed away, tears burning her eyes, and took off with a jolt into the forest, away from the only home she'd ever known.
And then there was nothing.
The pain subsided. The fire extinguished itself. She stood there feeling warmer than she'd ever felt before. Across her back was a heavy leopard's pelt and a thick tail swished behind her. Her teeth closed around a section of the pelt and she pulled, but it was apart of her.
She swung her head towards the two-leg Oyohusa. His hands were clasped together in a pleased manner. "How do you feel?"
"..." Kadriel stared at him. She was a beast, but...she felt normal. Hungry, and there was a spot in her chest that felt painfully empty, but otherwise normal. Perhaps it was the healer's blood flowing through her veins that helped her keep her head. She wasn't sure.
"I feel fine," she murmured after a minute of silence. It was strange. He could talk to her and could understand him, but she felt nothing for this newfound 'father', her creator, no matter how hard she stared.
"You should eat. There are plenty of others around you. Just pick your poison," he purred out.
Kadriel looked around. He was right. There was a village, the place where she was staying, just off to the side from where he lured her out at. In those little teepees, both human and soquili alike were just waiting for her. She could take them down with no effort at all.
But there was someone else. Someone who would taste much better...
She turned away and left that pelted two-leg standing there, waiting for destruction that would come with time. Kadriel gave a toss of her head, then took off into the forest.
She found that the poisonous burn of thirst only got stronger and more painful the longer she went. She pinned her ears and drank water, but it helped little.
Her hooves made soft clipping sounds as she passed the boundary line and entered the Akivo herd's territory. The sweet scents of home were no longer sweet, but full of bitter memories that she couldn't quite remember.
Heads swung in her direction as she paced into the clearing. Words were whispered in hushed voices and they fled.
They feared her... She smiled bitterly.
Keatyn's eyes grew narrowed, then widened in shock. He still bore a scar that her mother had given him across his cheekbone. She remembered that. "No..."
Her lips rose up and she lunged. Hooves slammed into the earth, echoing up around her and her muscles burned as she thrust her horn through the muscle of his throat. He gasped, blood bubbling up from the wound and seeping to the ground. She licked it, and it was like sweet, sweet cinnamon.
"M-My...daughter..." he wheezed out, flailing away.
She reared up and struck him down with both hooves. He lay where he fell, staring up at her with the same look she'd seen in her protector's eyes a year before.
"You're no father of mine," Kadri growled out triumphantly, then tore into his still living flesh with new fangs.
He tasted absolutely delicious.
This change of lifestyle would be a wonderful one.
[1010 words]
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Taiyak
SW's Temper: Confident
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
Young minds were so innocent, yet so damned feeble...
Taiyak unfurled his leathered wings, flapping them out twice and he threw his head back with a snarl. Pearl-white teeth shone in the dim light and little hooves scrambled backwards as the foals piled on top of one another to try and get away.
"Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?" he snarled out, swallowing his laughter, his glee at the looks on their tiny faces. The whites of their eyes gleamed in terror and they kept backing themselves up against the wall of the cave, climbing onto each other in fear.
The oldest of the group, a slender black filly, had led them away from the safety of their mothers. She had paraded them through the confines of the forest and into the cave. Exploring, she called it. Until Taiyak arrived. Now they were baying for their mommies.
And Taiyak was having a -blast- scaring them.
He lunged forwards, hooves clapping on the solid ground. Two foals squealed loudly and, ears pinned and eyes closed, darted around him and out of the cave. Tai skidded to a stop and lowered his head.
The third foal was sitting awkwardly on the stone floor, his entire body shaking as he rocked back and forth. Lips moved, but no sound came out. Taiyak cocked his head to one side. He wasn't running...
"Boo," he hissed.
No response.
Tai's ears pinned back and he nipped sharply at the colt, leaving a welt and drawing blood to the surface. His blood tasted bitter, like fear. He flapped his wings once more for good measure. The colt didn't move.
"I'm not gonna kill you," he murmured finally, heaving a sigh as his game was over. This ending didn't happen frequently, but it happened enough. "Look, kid. I was just having some fun. Get up. Go home."
No reply. No movement.
Tai groaned. He moved around behind the colt and using his horns, urged him forwards a few steps. The steps were taken shakily, stumbling. He would take the colt home, to the village, where he belonged. And maybe someday, the little freak's nightmares would no longer plague him.
As he moved out of the village, his hips swaying to an inaudible song, a human covered in animal pelts stepped forwards, his hand outstretched. Taiyak snorted, but didn't spook. Instead, he puffed himself up and bolted straight at him!
The two-leg didn't move. "I see what you do to the little foals. You cause them pain to gain pleasure. You are well suited for my task..."
"What task?" Why was this strange person talking to him and why could he understand every word the odd one said?
"Come closer and you truly will be a 'big bad wolf'."
Tai smirked, folded in his wings, and stepped forwards. He knew it; there was always a prize to be won for people like him and he'd just won. Perfect.
The man sprinkled a strange talc-like powder over his pelt, then stepped back, glee in his own dark eyes. Tai's brows furrowed. His skin began to burn, like fire was eating him, and it hurt! He let out a bellow and bolted forwards, trying to run the traitorous two-leg over, but he was struck blind! He shrilled and thrashed, stepping on himself and prancing nervously to the side until he stood like a lone foal, his body beginning to tremble. He shook his head from side to side, and the vision of that little colt he had scared to death kept looping through his mind.
As quick as the pain had come on, it was gone. He opened his eyes, a hazy film coating his vision, but it was back. He gazed around. The pelted man was no where to be found. Damnit, he'd been had!
He stamped a hoof on the ground and his belly gave a rumble. Hunger. And not the normal, "I need a racoon-snack before dinner" hunger. A hunger that felt like his belly was eating itself piece by piece. A thirst that made him swallow over and over.
Where was he, anyway?
Something rattled behind him. As quick as a wolf, he spun around with a roar that came out quite un-Taiyak-of-him. It made him pause and consider it, but it was deafening. It was...perfect. A grin rose upon his lips.
"You!"
His ears pricked at the sharp voice of a female, a stocky brown mare striding towards him with a furious look on her face. He regarded her cooly, unafraid of what she might do. He didn't feel he had to worry. It just felt right to stand there and stare.
"You were the ones who lead our children astray! Little Javier won't even talk to his mother!" she snarled. "What did you do to them?!"
"I put the fear of God in their souls." His voice echoed out hollowly, but the grin remained intact. "I think it's a nice change." And he laughed.
"You are a beast!" The mare puffed herself up, then spun with a kick to his chest. The blow landed and the newly-formed skinwalker's grin turned into a sneer.
"That's right. I am. And your children are now orphans."
Her eyes lit up with confusion and she took a step back. "W-What?" She barely managed to utter the word when he leapt forwards, his fangs burying into her throat. Blood splurted from the wound, soaking his chest and muzzle and he drank hungrily. The thick warmth warmed his heart and the flesh tasted 100% better than his usual dinner of deer or buffalo.
"M-Mother?!" The little black filly stood spindly-legged, her eyes wide as she watched Taiyak feast upon her dam.
Tai's gaze snapped up to her. Something tickled inside of him, urging him to go after her and it was an urge he couldn't resist...
"Aren't you afraid of the big, bad wolf?" he called out, creeping towards her. She stood stock-still. He slinked forwards. She shook her head and he smirked. "You should be."
She gave a sudden scream and darted into the forest. He lunged after her, his bounds long and catching up with her within seconds. His jaws clamped down around her leg and he pulled her up off the ground, only to slam her back down again. Small bones shattered and tears sprang to her wild eyes, pleading.
"You should be..."
And with a sickening, glistening crack, he ripped ribs backwards, tearing into lung tissue even as the filly gasped in her last, frightened breaths.
Taiyak folded his wings neatly to his sides, then began to dismantle his tender-fleshed dinner. She was so innocent, her blood like the finest of sweet red wines. He ate in silence. It would be hard to change his diet now.
Mothers, hide your children away, for they will never be safe as long as the wolf prowls.
[1129 words]
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 1:53 pm
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Eyðileggjasál (Icelandic for Ravaged Soul)
SW's Temper: Sociopathic
Prompt Response: “Human, what is this?” The Kalona roared, burning red haze obscuring his sight. The human’s speech had been so alluring, drawing him into agreeing to take his ‘gift.’ He promised that Eyðileggjasál would become a better hunter, the best in fact. Eyo wanted that, he wanted it bad. So bad he had put trust in a human…
Images began flickering before him. He saw familiar places and Kalona, heard familiar voices and sounds. He saw a Kalona, a very large one, with broken horns and aging eyes. That was…father? Why was he seeing father? And why was his father so large? Surely he should be the size of his father by now. Was he dying? They often say that one’s life flashes before their eyes as they die. Was he, Eyðileggjasál, dying? The human had poisoned him! Curse him; curse him for all of eternity!
Stronger images now flashed before his eyes, visages of things he had shoved into a mental closet. He saw his brother, the pride of their father, making his first kill; Eyo had only scared his prey away. Then he saw his brother finding a mate in the most beautiful mare he had ever laid eyes on. He saw many images of his brother besting him, his father praising his brother, and Eyðileggjasál always being second fiddle. It had always been like that, it still was. Even though Eyðileggjasál was now a successful hunter that easily provided for his family, he still felt that he was nothing and only provided just enough. His brother had always been better than he, able to provide feasts for his family.
But then the shaman had approached him, telling him that he could help him best his brother. Hungry to feel the satisfaction he was sure his brother felt, Eyðileggjasál easily took the bait presented, and now he was here, howling in the pain of poison death.
But was this death, or birth? He felt a great power rising up, the mist started to clear. His memories began to fade. The voices were noise, the figures were vague. One thing remained clear in his mind: hunt. His purpose was to kill, to destroy all life he saw. Those not like him…they were nothings. Expendable pieces of trash that tasted delicious and squealed so delightfully. Yes…killing those worthless pieces of garbage was fun. Fun was…good. Good? Yes, good. The only thing that was “good” in the world was killing. Pleasure, fun was good.
He would start with that one horned piece of trash, the one who had taken away his fun.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 3:16 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Astarte Theora - combo of the greek name meaning star and the greek name meaning watcher. Together formed Star Watcher. Named for her past time as a child, watching the stars.
SW's Temper: [I[Conniving - Everything is planned and thought out before hand. She is lethal and ruthless but does not act without thinking. Vary smart. Knows what she is going to do and how she will do it before she does it.
Prompt Response:
“Never leave the village, darling. I know you are adventurous but outsiders are dangerous and they should not be trusted. We know we cannot blame you for your nature but if you would only…try to control yourself?” It was one of many warnings she did not heed. How could she when the stars called to her each night and the chance of a mystery was around the corner. She had never been the brightest girl, and she knew this as well. Her heart was not in her mind but her legs and they carried her across the mountain ranges many a time in search of adventure. She could never sit still, be it for a ceremony or celebration. The moon‘s allure could not hold her but the stars…the stars. Struggling to be bright and to shine against the ever brighter moon, the pulled her eyes to the sky each night and her mind would slip away from her for an hour or two as she watched them twinkle. The shooting stars were her favorite. Wild, free…just as she wished to be.
When the two legger had come to her that afternoon she was thrilled to speak to a traveler. Her village and herd follow stick procedures when it came to outsiders. They herd would never go near those passing through . Those who wised to move into the village, seeking refuge or a new home, three moon cycles had to pass. Then and then the herd would meet them. It was the rule of the village. So the chance to meet someone who was not of their village, of their culture, thrilled her. She snuck away as her herd slept and listened to his tales, his stories and words. She spoke to him as well, telling him of her life and her family. He had been so nice, so fascinating. And his tales of things called Skinwalkers. They were the most free of all the Soquili, he had said. They possessed abilities unlike any other. They wore a pelt, like his, and could turn into the animal that matched their pelt. Any animal from a lark to a bear could be a Skinwalker in hiding, he had said. They ran wild and free, tied down by no one. And he could give her this gift. No thought, no planning, she agreed.
And the torture had begun as soon as the powder moved through her body. Her soul, engulfed in flames, the world around her, lost in a red haze. She cried out in pain as her body convulsed. Images flashed before her eyes. “Astarte, please listen to me” Her mother begging her to stop her travels and adventure. “Astarte you must learn this” Her herd demanding her to submit to the rules and regulations they all followed. Her herd’s attempts at teaching her the ways of the moon and its goddess…each lesson had passed through her head, unable to stick in her mind. Her memory, horrid. Her manners, none existent. She had tried so hard, so hard, to please them. But even if she managed to act right, her looks were the laughing stock of her peers. Lack of a unicorn tail, her hyper and carefree ways, all going up in smoke. Her life burning slowly away, moment by moment. Her sisters, the stallion her mother planed her to mate, her herd members, the two leggers. She only wished to be free, to be free…so free…
She jerked, screamed, called out for water, forgiveness, anything. But as the fire burned hotter and hotter more painful memories slammed against her brain. Sobs ripped from her throat as she begged for death. It was to hot, to much. And then…the fired died away and she collapsed, blacking out.
Darkness had settled on the mountainous village and the hell that had, for one brief moment, resided on its outskirts, was burnt out. Its child, lean and tall, showing the beauty of the stars she had once loved dearly as her pelt, stalked towards the forgotten home. The village was in full action, as it often was at this time of night. The moon was high, bathing everything in a pale light. To the west of the rocky homes and sparse trees, a lush plain of grasses and shrubs homed the family she had once belonged to. But her eyes, which searched the darkness with an ability far beyond those of the pure blooded unicorns to whom she once looked for acceptance, did not see family, nor did she notice the worried mother or concerned sister. Her eyes saw the lush, strong bodies of those bested only by the Angenli themselves. A purr moved through her. Her own horn, her unicorn blood, called out for the blood of the unicorns. Of the pure and clean healing nature of their bodies. Her body ached with need as she crept ever closer. But she did not charge, nor frenzy, when she reached the border. Her mind, ever calculating and examining, looked over each mare, foal, and stallion. A noise and her ear flicked to the left to pick up the sound of the villagers in their celebration of the full moon. Smirking to herself it evolved into a polite and sweet smile before she trotted into town.
“Astarte! Astarte!”
Her name drew her attention and she moved her head to the side. Mares stood off to the left and watched her with tired and uncertain eyes. Did they know her? They did not look to like her. But they…A sniff and mental note. They did not fear her. They were annoyed at her return, it seemed. Interesting. Moving she turned to face the two mares coming towards her as she took in the stallions to the right who seemed to stare at her with a hunger. Another sniff. Lust. Disgusting pigs would be her first meal. Back to the mares who were now in front of her. “Hello” She said, her voice soft and smooth. Did they know her? Their odd looks indicated they had, at one point, and that her current voice, or appearance, was odd to them.
“Astarte, where have you been? And that pelt…what is that…? Dear I’ve been so worried…you’ve always been such an air headed girl, chasing the stars, but certainly I never thought you would disappear and not tell your mother…” This mare was a darker blue, but the light patterns she held were the same. Her mother? This mare was confused. This was not her family. She possessed no family. But…this would be her advantage.
“Why, mother, I got lost, and a kindly old man gave this to me and a mystic power.” She stated. Kindly, yeah right. That rotten two legger. He would be dead when she found him again. “I apologize for worrying you.” She smiled softly and looked about her. Annoyance surrounded her, and worry. The celebrating in the village was growing near. They were coming to the field. Perfect. She continued her ruse, gaining her allowance to move into the herd and to her “normal” sleeping spot, or so they said. Her blood boiled at the smells and the need but her mind, strong, waited for the moment when the feast would begin. Patience, planning. And then, a feast would ensue like no other! It nearly brought about another purr. Not yet. To soon to break the…
A scream from the two leggers. One recognized her, a foreigner of the mountains. She snarled and turned, shrinking and morphing to a compact and strong feline. Panic filled the air at the strange morphing creature and the herd began to flee, as did the villagers. No! A snarl and she followed, darting from beast to beast, their legs torn apart by teeth and claws meant for shredding. High pitch screams and fountains of blood did nothing to distract her as she moved to the next and the next. It took only minutes to bring the village and herd to the ground. Then, just as quickly, she moved through the grounds and with a crunch, the horns that might have ruined her plan were dispatched. She purred at her handiwork. The wounds were not fatal. Not yet at least, but it kept them on the ground and gave her time to enjoy her meals. Transforming, her eyes darted to the mountain path as a few young two leggers escaped, but she did not give chase. Leaving her feast might bring about mangy wolves or bears. And she would not let her meal be infected by such pathetic mongrels in return for a few plump children. No, let them warn the neighboring villages. She welcomed the challenge.
Turning she moved to the closest. A foal, pure and sweet. Its white, luminous coat was speckled in deep red and it cried out in pain. Turning she smiled, a gentle smile that was now more terrifying then any cruel smirk to the small creature. “Easy, child, It will feel better in a moment.” She dipped her head and healed the foal’s torn legs with ease. As the child whimpered and stood, shaking terribly and confused, it turned to dart away. With a gleeful purr she changed and took chase, toying with it. Her claws scratched and bat at its rump and, as it reached the village, she brought it down, tearing into its sweet neck and reveling in the gurgles as it tried to gasp for breath. Tearing apart the tiny body it took no time to finish. She changed back to her larger form before she moved to a stallion near her. She smiled again and once more healed him. As the dirty stallion took off for the mountain path she bothered not with her smaller form. No, he would require her large, powerful form. She chased him, leaping easily over the bodies of those still injured, and a few smaller ones who had bled to death already, what a shame. Hitting him with full force she pinned him to the ground and went to work on ridding his bones of the troublesome and delectable tissues. Through the rest of the night she continued in this manner, playing with the creature’s who had welcomed her in so easily. Purring as she finished, filled with the meat and blood of nearly a hundred Soquili and Two legger, she moved to the center of massacre. Laying down she smirked, her red soaked body shining eerily in the light as she fell into a light sleep. Tomorrow night word would have spread and the game would be harder. But her mind was already forming the perfect plan…
Word Count: 1774
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 4:03 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Rhaena
SW's Temper: Self-assured
Prompt Response:
Rhaena stumbled sideways. In her life she had always been somewhat less than graceful. It had been an embarrassment for her, part unicorn, to always be bumping into things. She had never known know why she wasn’t able to have the grace that should have come naturally with her blood. She didn’t know why she seemed drawn to scratches and bruises.
But tonight, she knew why she could barely keep her feet.
Pain burned through her unlike anything else she had felt in her life. The pain was burning at times and then freezing at others. It was almost maddening in its intensity. Tears slid from her eyes only to be soaked up by... by... she didn’t even know what the thing was that they were absorbed into. It was something that the human had cast over her. Something that felt like it was choking her though her breath still pounded in and out of her lungs.
Her head dropped with the agony of it and her legs came into her blurred vision. Scraped legs. Scratched and scraped and bruised by the force of her struggling. Her legs hurt. Even in the rest of her agony she recognized that fact.
Visions fluttered through her mind. Her constant clumsiness had been a curse through her youth. She had been teased for it, sometimes mercilessly, and she soon learned to be ashamed of the scratches that would crisscross over her. Then she learned something else. She learned that her horn healed and that it would heal those scratches so no one would ever know that she was graceless. That she was nothing but a parody of all that a unicorn ought to be. That she was-
The burning grew stronger now. Rhaena’s body shook with sobs that sounded unfamiliar to her. They didn’t sound like crying, some distracted and distant part of her mind recognized. They sounded more like... growling.
She still remembered what sobbing sounded like. She remembered her own crying and tears at rejection from the one stallion that she had ever truly loved. He had been a unicorn, as pure as the white that covered his beautiful body. They had spent time together, beautiful and wonderful time together. Then she fell into the river. It had been a shallow, calm little river that they had been jumping across rocks to cross. She had laughed a little with embarrassment, she recalled. Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and then she cried and cried but she was certain that if she saw him again now that she would tear his smug pretty face apart and throw the pieces into the river so that the whole thing would run red and no one would ever know that she had-
A sudden flash of pain coursed through her. She was on the ground now, writhing, yowling. As she yowled all she could think of was the face of that unicorn. What would he think if he saw her like this? Would he laugh again? Would he make her cry again? She was already crying, she remembered. He wouldn’t have to.
Again through her teary eyes she saw her battered legs come before her. They hurt her so much. She could at least stop that pain even if she couldn’t do anything about the rest. Shaking, she lowered her horn to the worst looking one.
Rhaena spasmed as another jolt of pain hit her. In her spasm her horn, held close to her leg, slashed wildly. Instead of healing she now looked in horror at a new and even deeper gash. Blood welled up from the depths and for a moment the world spun woozily.
He will never love me now. Now he’ll know that I’m so graceless that I cut myself when I try to heal.
The tears that ran down into the pelt over her face now were not tears of pain. They were tears for him. Rhaena knew it and yet could do nothing to stop it. He’d never love her. Never. Because she wasn’t a full unicorn. Because she was clumsy. Because she’d cut herself and made herself bleed.
She sobbed again but again it was not the right sound. This time it wasn’t a growl. This time, it was a snarl.
Suddenly Rhaena erupted into movement. She whipped her head back around, horn pointed again at her bleeding legs. This time instead of even attempting to heal, she slashed.
She slashed once.
The new and sharper pain helped to drive away some of the burning agony. It almost felt like healing.
She slashed again.
Her love, her unicorn. Just as he would never love her she would never try to pretend to be anything but what she was ever again.
She slashed a third time.
The leaves beneath her were splattered with blood and the tears had stopped. She would never heal herself again. All would know now. All would know exactly what she was.
Rhaena began to laugh and it was like a new day dawning within her... or like a new night falling. Never again would she be ashamed. Never again would she feel inferior or insecure.
And suddenly, the pain had stopped.
When Rhaena climbed to her feet she stood on steady and bleeding legs. Whatever had been bothering her before didn’t seem so important now. As the last memories of the unicorn’s beautiful face faded away from her mind she let them go without a second thought. She had been humiliated in a previous life but that life was dead. Now she would never again doubt....
And she would make certain that the next soquili sobbing in humiliation was not going to be her. She walked alone into the night with this internal promise, the blood oozing from her legs as forgotten as the love she once felt. She didn’t even notice when she switched from her soquili form into the form of a panther. It felt too natural to question. She leapt nimbly over a fallen branch and landed gracefully on the other side.
Never again would she doubt.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 6:49 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Sconce
SW's Temper: Brutal
Prompt Response:
The night was silent, just as she liked. Her head still pounded and she knew something was wrong, surely she would be dead before the moon rose and offered its soft light on the world. She could barely see, the reddened tears choking her view. Sconce lifted her head from her crouch.
They snickered to each other. Sconce's green eyes stood out in the golden grass as her good friend Fracture nudged her from the side. "Do you see them, Sconce? Do you see the boys?"
Sconce leaned into her best friend, "No, now be quiet. We must be sneaky sneak!"
The laughter rolled on, until she found that she really was hearing it. Her headache built until she could hardly speak. Why did they have to be so loud when she was on her death bed? Why couldn't they just leave her in peace? Sconce lifted her bulk to her feet and hissed. The feline-like sound would have started her if she wasn't dying.
"BE QUIET!" Sconce screeched to the winds. But the laughing didn't stop, and she was only further enraged.
Light on her feet where standing had been an effort only moments before, Sconce lunged toward the sound blindly as her tears streamed behind her. Her nostrils ached, which only served to make her angrier.
Sconce threw her head into the fairy-filled air. Her feet never seemed to touch the ground, she truly flew through the land. Beside her was the one called Flicker, the brother of her friend Fracture. He only served to make her heart soar deeper. Flicker came close, their motions synched and he leaned over and lifted an errant strand of her hair. "I love you, Sconce."
"Forever and ever, I love you, Flicker," she said earnestly and then swished her mane into his face. "But it won't help you win this race!"
She dug her heels in and crouched just as the moonlight broke and touched the shimmer of her back. Before her she knew were those who caused her further agony with their incessant noise. They stopped now, but they must pay for their insubordination. Sconce willed them to move, to make the first action while she scoped them out. The pain had subsided slightly, as if this is what it was asking for – the hunt, the prey. Even her sight had cleared enough for her to make out the forms of two young soquili out for a stroll in the night.
One screamed in horror. Sconce pounced, just as another memory assailed her senses.
"Don't go, Sconce, please!" Flicker pleaded with her with saddened rose eyes.
"But I must, it is my destiny!" She draped her head across his shoulder, pleading him to understand. "There is nothing here for me, my story does not continue here. I have to go to the far-away lands and bring back the magic, for the good of the heard. It can only be up to me."
But Flicker pouted, "What about me? What about our children? We took the vow to spend the rest of our life together. Can I at least go with you?"
"It gladdens my heart to hear you ask, my love," Sconce nibbled affectionately on his delicate mane. "But it is too dangerous, and you must stay and watch over the kids – they are still too young and still get in to mischief."
Flicker sighed, his sign that he agreed. They continued their personal farewell on the last night they'd be together before she left on her dutiful journey.
Sconce stumbled. She snarled and twisted the moment her feet touched the ground. The mare had missed, and her headache was revived with a vengeance. Sconce paused as collected her bearing. Both of the young ones were running away, but she wasn't worried because she would catch them, then they would pay.
Why were these things entering her mind? They seemed familiar, but as each one pestered her, they disappeared on the wind before she could think on them further. All they did was hinder her in this chase. Sconce shook her head. Her tears had dried up with the last passing thought, but her nose still stung. Everything was enhanced: the stars, the trees, the blades of grass. With her newfound sense of smell, she could almost see the very trails the young soquili had taken to get away. It wasn't fair; this was going to be too easy.
Sconce lifted a foot and went forward. The trails went opposite directions, she chose the one on the right. She would return for the latter when she was done teaching the first brat a lesson. A slight jog was adequate; the scent was getting stronger as she got closer and closer while one more memory irritated her mind.
"That is a wonderful story, Bright Eyes," the pelted human lounged carelessly. "But why go through all that effort? You have the gift of healing – you can use that for your own purposes and not those of others."
Sconce gasped, "But it is my Duty - passed down to me by my mother and mother's mother. It is not something I could just turn my back on. You, as a knowledgeable shaman and Elder, surely can understand such a thing."
"Hmmm," he stroked the pelt on his shoulder. The smell of rotting flesh assailed her nostril and her eyes threatened to tear up. "Good answer, Bright Eyes. Can I offer you something, then, to help you with you Duty? And once your Duty is done, you will still have this precious gift to remember me by."
"Oh?" Sconce stood a little straighter, excited by the prospect of a shaman's treasure from this foreign land.
"The ability to turn into another animal. Wouldn't that be wonderful? You could leap from the trees as a graceful feline, or soar through the skies as a feathered hawk, or howl your love to the moon as a loyal wolf. The world would be opened for you."
She shimmered with excitement, oh how she always envied the wild cats as they prowled through the tall grasses and scaled the trees as if born of the branches. "Yes, yes! Such a treasure would surely be amazing! I would be forever grateful."
"I'm sure you would, Bright Eyes," he laughed and extended his unclenched hand. The breeze picked up and the dust in his hand swirled as it came towards her.
Sconce waited eagerly until the first grain burned her skin. It was a lie, a trap! As her body burned she tripped and lurched to his maniacal glee she knew that he had betrayed her.
"Skinwalker," whispered the soquili in a garbled tone.
Sconce looked down upon its mangled body. His blood slicked her fur. Purring, she licked the gore from her ankle. As she had relived that last fateful moment she had tore this poor creature apart. But the mare with the silken fur did not care. In fact, as his blood ran down her throat Sconce knew that this was what living truly meant.
A choking wheeze caught her attention. Sconce looked down at the young soquili. He was dying, his wounds too severe. Yes, he would die, but only when she said it was time.
Sconce leaned, pausing in her cleaning. She pushed the mane out of the dying young stud's face and nibbled affectionately at his cheek. His eyes closed in the bliss of knowing mercy would come soon. But she whickered softly, "On no, Son, it is not over yet."
His eyes flew open as his screams echoed through the trees. She plunged her horn into him again and again. It ripped and tore, gouged and rendered his destroyed body to further waste. And from the remains his body healed and stitched itself back together as a weaver worked her tapestry. There came a time in which he was whole again, only to have Sconce tear him apart. At one point in the night he was not alone, and the newly made Skinwalker had hunted his partner and brought her to him. They suffered together.
As the moon finally set, Sconce watched stars in the sky. The clouds went to and fro as life-giving blood flowed upon flattened grass. She had played with the young couple until their spirits finally broke, at which time they were not as pleasurable. Only then did she take her final reward in their deaths and found her Purpose. Sconce had a new Duty, to purge this land of the pathetic soquili and humans. And she would have one hell of a time doing it. With a smile on her face, the Skinwalker turned and disappeared into the widening shadows.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 7:28 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Kanati [means ‘hunter’ in Cherokee ; but her name was once Uwetsi, which means ‘daughter’]
SW's Temper: Crafty
Prompt Response:
Fire. It consumed her body and soul. Uwetsi cried out, her vision blurring into senseless blendings of color. Somewhere in front of her, a two legger laughed. It was a cruel sound. “Welcome. Welcome my child. There is work to be done.” She should have never trusted him, though it was all too late now. He had proposed to her a new life. Away from her mountain, away from the scenery she had seen every day of her life. He had come, sought her out. She had thought him her savior. How stupid she was! Convulsions overtook her lithe frame, driving her to her knees in a moan of pain. In a last ditch effort, she lowered her nape, curling her head under, pressing her horn tip to her chest. For a moment, sweet cold spread across her skin, cooling the flames that burned her. But all too soon, the fire won out, overtaking even the healing power she possessed. The two legger laughed again as she fell to her side, laying limply against the damp earth. And she slowly drifted into unconsciousness.
[-] + [-]
Darkness. Then light. Laughter. Soft and welcoming now. Familiar. Unlike the cruel sounds she had heard moments before. “Uwetsi! Uwetsi!” A small colt came running towards her. Uwetsi grinned and reared back playfully as her friend skidded to a stop. She was younger now, in this dream of times long past. Happier. “What now, Chepele?” She whinnied with mock annoyance. Chepele shook his head abruptly, his short mane sticking out in spikes. “Want to play adventurers down by the pond? Sir Chepele the Brave and his brave side-kick, Lady Uwetsi the Meek!” Uwesti shot him a withering glance but took off towards the pond anyway. Calling back over her shoulder as she ran. “Meek? I’ll show you meek! Last one there is a rotten basket!” Chepele whinnied out of indignation. “Hey, no fair! Uwetssssiiiiii!” Without a moment’s hesitation he tore after her.
It didn’t take long for him to catch up. Uwetsi glanced back, saw him gaining, and shrieked. Chepele, inspirited by her reaction, poured on the speed. “You’re doomed, Uwe! I’m faster!” Even knowing this was true, Uwe couldn’t resist retorting. “Yeah, but my legs are longer!” The pond in sight, the pair broke into a dead sprint. With one final burst of speed, Chepele managed to trip her up and they went down in a splay of bodies and legs. Entangled, they burst into laughter. Blue pelt on silver, they sat for a while. Neither making an effort to stand up. Uwe focused on the face of her dear friend. This was how they worked best. Side by side, practically siblings. That was one thing she hoped would never change between them. Chep caught her glances and cocked his head. “What’s the matter?” Uwe shook her head, a small smile playing about her features. “Nothing, Chepele. Nothing at all.”
[-] + [-]
Uwetsi drifted awake slowly. The pain was gone, and the fire no longer seemed to crawl across her skin. But it was still there. Inside somehow. Burning. Ever burning. Coursing through her veins like a match to gasoline. She felt stronger. Faster. Better. More alive than she had ever been. Immense hunger, stronger than she had ever felt in her charmed life, echoed under her breast bone. She opened her eyes, everything coming into great focus, before rolling to her feet. A two legger stood in front of her. Somewhere deep in her mind, a faint memory, told her that he was the cause of her troubles. Of the pain that had wrought her body. A deep snarl resonated in her throat, a guttural warning that seemed off to her ears. She backed up a step, shaking her head. This wasn’t right. Wasn’t her.
But it was. The fire just beneath her skin told her so. It was her through and through. “Don’t fight it. Succumb. Give in. You want this. You want this.” The two legger’s voice was smooth and gentle, calming, an underlying stream of cruelty supplied to his words. Uwetsi growled at him, still backing away. The man brought his hand just below his face, blowing on it, sending powder flying towards her. Startled, Uwetsi took a breath and the fire consumed her once more. “No! Stop this! Please.” She begged through a fit of coughing. Her emerald eyes rolled back into her skull, and she melting to the ground once more.
[-] + [-]
She was older now, entering the world now as a young mare. Beautiful and loved by everyone. Everyone, but the one she loved in return. “Uwetsi.” The voice, once so familiar, was soft. She turned to face the stallion, a waning smile on her face. “Chepu.” She murmured in return, using her child name for him. Her heart ached for him yet she stayed where she was. They had grown away from each other, slowly. Had to watch from a distance as the colt of her childhood became the stallion of her dreams. “I miss you.” He grinned guiltily, a youthful freshness lighting his handsome features. Uwe made a movement towards him, but stopped herself. “What happened to us? The way we were back then.” She replied hesitantly. Chepele stood awkwardly, his silver and emerald pelt rolling over hidden muscles even at rest. “We grew up.” He stated simply, shrugging. Uwe nodded in return, sadness marring her normally peaceful face. “Grew up. And grew apart.”
It was shorter this time. Less of her past was still left to relive. No slow awakening this time either. Within seconds she was up, throwing herself towards the demon that had put her through the utmost misery. Twice. The two legger held up one hand, and she found herself coming to a stop just before her. “Why don’t you run?” She hissed, her eyes narrowed in fury. “I can kill you without trying, human. I will feast upon your blood and flesh.” The two legger made no movement, just observed her with a sly grin. “I am your creator. I ask of you one thing. That will satisfy your needs. And mine.” Despite the urging she felt to kill him, she resisted. Curiosity blossoming within her. “The Kawani lands lie due east from here. That is where your future lies. That is your purpose. To kill the Soquili. Kill them all.” Uwetsi grinned, digging her hooves into the earth in anticipation of the crimson blood that would flow. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her soul, something told her that what she felt wasn’t right. Wasn’t her. But she couldn’t resist any longer.
And when the vision came again, it was shorter than ever.
[-] + [-]
“I love you, Uwetsi. Always will.” Uwe bubbled with happiness as Chepele’s words. They filled her with uncontainable joy. Her entire being burned with love for him as well. They were older now, well into adult hood. They were best friends, lovers too. And nothing had ever felt so perfect or so right. She never wanted to be apart from him again.
[-] + [-]
Then darkness clouded her mind. The last bit of her past flitted past her eyes as who she was was slowly erased for good.
[-] + [-]
A great journey. Chepele leaving. Promising. Promising her. That he would be back soon. With news of a new home for them. Waiting. Waiting. Weeks. Months.
A year goes by. And she is still alone. Her heart, breaking.
One day she awoke, looked down the mountain to see a small figure standing there. Not her Chepele. No. But a two leg, dressed in a ratty furs, cloaked in shadows. Waiting for her. She approaches him, too weary to care anymore.
“Uwetsi.” He began. His voice like the whisper of wind through gnarled oak. “I can make this all go away.” He gestured to her chest, where her broken heart lay beating.
[-] + [-]
“Uwetsi.” The same voice from her memory called out to her from the present and she dragged herself into consciousness. Everything she knew was gone, everything that lay ahead of her was to be swathed in blood. Crimson blood. A roll of pleasure went through her. But a spike of anger pierced her thoughts.
“No.” She snarled. “Not Uwetsi. Not anymore. My name is Kanati. The hunter. And the world of the Soquili will tremble in fear when they look upon my face.”
The two legger grinned, broken toothed at his new creation. “Thus, let it begin.”
[Word Count; 1394]
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