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 Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:10 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: Merikh
SW's Temper: Deleterious
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
As Merikh attempted to fight of the excruciating pain, cruelly seeping through every inch of his body. He whipped his neck around blindly, growled and snapped at the red haze that is the only thing visible to his eyes. All the memories of his past came flashing into his mind in on stop burst as if they where in a hurry to get through.
He found himself as a young colt chasing down a small white colored rabbit, as the poor creature dived, jumped ,and scurried across the forest floor, trying to get way from him. Moving faster and faster he felt his own heart beating as if it was about to burst through his chest. He taunting and laughing as it attempted to run away. Then felt in squirm and wiggle as he bit down on it and finally the life drain away from it's body and finally he standing next to the body of a mangled bloody dead rabbit. He felt so proud that he could hunt for himself, when he needed food.
On and on the memories presented themselves, ones of him hunting with his father, ones of him arguing with his mother and other family members. The ones of him and his family destroying the homes of others, fighting with each other and others came and went. The ones of him and the other foals he hung around with also came and went. All of his memory, so many of them passed by Each on was but a split second, but to him it seemed as though he was living ever on again was mixed cruelly
with the pain he was in at that moment.
It switched to the time he was hunting down a young mare, who just happened to be foolish enough to trespass over the land he had declared of his own. He took feel her fear and taste he flesh and blood like he did when he ripped into her throat. She was one of the many memories of he had of others he had hurt.
He himself in yet another memory, he was standing near a cliff with a Kalona mare next to him. She had been his partner in crime since they had both been foals, the only one who made him feel anything. He snarled and twisted himself in an attempt to hold onto the memory of her.
He had suddenly realized that ones the memories flashed though they were gone forever, and that as soon as this memory was gone, so would she.Finally all the memories had passed by and there was nothing more, nothing but darkness and Merikh let it cover and embrace him.
Time passed since that day, none of the memories of Merikh's other life ever came back. As far as he was concerned there was no past before he because a skinwalker. He was strong and relentless in his hunt. While in the past he had cared about his family, and a few others, now he didn't care about anyone. He didn't worry about what others thought of him. He lived to hurt down and hurt others, every chance he got Nothing was safe from his wrath, nothing. He lived for the hunt, pain, cruelty and death, his companions. The beast he willingly let consume him, it was what he was, and what he always would be until the end of his days.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:56 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: Ifrit
SW's Temper: Jealous
Prompt Response: He had no idea what had just happened. Surely this searing pain was nothing more than a mild side-effect. The thought had crossed his mind only briefly before the pain blurred his vision and sent the stallion sprawling to the ground. It hurt. He couldn't breathe. Opening his eyes once more, all he could see was red and it felt like the world was spinning.
The proud stallion couldn't help but throw himself into the nearest object - a sturdy tree - to try and relieve the pain that overwhelmed him. He wanted to stop what this accursed two-legger had done to him, but to no avail. Pushing his head hard against the ground, images came flooding back. Everything he ever had flashed before his eyes, but the voices speaking to him sounded so far away. He continued to push his head against the ground in a vain attempt to make the thoughts and images stop flashing by, to make the searing pain behind his eyes disappear.
Her face. His body froze as his mind focused on the Kalona mare standing beside him. Raising his head once more, he attempted to open his eyes and look to his side, only to be greeted once more by the burning sensation and red mist. Shutting his eyes tightly, her face came back to him.
She had once been his. No. She was his and he was determined that nothing would ever take this mare from his side. Another face crossed his mind. That of another Kalona stallion, this one regarded as an enemy. He had claimed the mare, drawing her from Ifrit. Seeing this was enough to drive the already wild stallion into a jealous rage. HE had taken the mare from him. This other Kalona. Again Ifrit thrashed against the great tree, sending several fragments to the ground around him.
A new image flashed before him. The two-legged being. The one that seemed to seek him out in this time of need and with promises of gifts to gain revenge.
"This powder here, it will allow you to change into any beast your thoughts deem fit. Any beast you wish to become at any time." He had said, and the stallion had foolishly fallen for it. Now he was paying for it. Never trust one of thw two-legged monsters, they bring nothing but suffering.
Slamming once more into the tree, he let out a garbled cry. It wasn't his voice, not really. And at the end, it sounded almost like a howl. His body gave out despite his fierce will and he collapsed to the ground, muscles spasming erratically and the pain flowing, filling every nook and cranny of his entire being, even his spirit and will were overcome. What this two-legged monster had done to him, he did not know but now...now he had a taste for blood and he was going to get it no matter the circumstances.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:42 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Senka meaning "Shadow" in Serbian
SW's Temper: Destructive
Prompt Response: Everything burned as the world around her went red. Senka whinnied in pain, a high pitched noise that slowly became a low growl of displeasure. Through the red, images flitted this way and that. What were they and who was she for that matter? Shaking her head, which seemed in slow motion to her, Senka focused her attention on one of the more insistent images while everything else seemed to disappear.
The world tilted and blurred as the darkness lifted. Voices! Maybe they could help her break free? She struggled and nickered as loudly as she could. Light suddenly burned her eyes and she squealed before ducking her head. That hurt! Senka felt herself being lifted and she struggled. She felt so small. Wasn’t she bigger? No, that wasn’t possible….was it? The little foal shook her tiny head and blinked. Two-leggers? She vaguely remembered gentle voices reassuring as she grew in her basket that these were kind beings that often helped Soquili. Neighing her thanks as they set her down, she searched for her parents. Where were they?! They had often told her as she slept ‘We will always be there.” Had they forgotten? No! They must have been called away…yes, that was it! Deciding that this must be the answer, the blue filly cantered away a bit on unsteady legs. After a while, she tired and as she returned to rest she overheard the quiet mumbling of the two-legger from before. Senka felt horror sweeping through her. Her parents were dead, slaughtered by some unknown creature. She screamed in anguish and just before the world went black, the burning began again.
Once again in her adult form, the half breed female was also screaming. Her entire body was on fire as the corpse powder took effect. Why had she made the deal with that evil looking creature anyway? Her remembrances were just out of her reach. If only she could reach another. Senka had failed to notice that there were only one other memory and the one memory she had just relived was gone forever. With the pain distracting her she really didn’t care. The red grew quickly, filling her vision before disappearing along with everything else as she once more fell into a memory.
Again the world tilted and blurred for a now older Senka. Shaking her head as she stumbled, a voice filled her ears and she could hear the gentle concern. Who was this stallion that called to her? She should know that, shouldn’t she? The half-unicorn mare wracked her brain for the answer until finally it clicked. This was her suitor and would be mate. Hikaru her beloved light, this was the name her addled brain finally supplied. Why on earth was she having such trouble remembering things lately? A strong kick in her stomach gave the mare yet another answer. She was pregnant! Amazed the mare looked at her mate and celebrated inwardly the fact that they would soon have baskets of their own to care for. Walking, though it looked more like a waddle to be honest, she nickered to Hikaru and nuzzled his neck. This was true happiness and she hoped it would last forever. A short time later the pair was fast asleep and a few hours later, the attack came. Wolves, hungry for fresh meat, had decided the pregnant mare would be a wonderful feast. The stallion was just a bonus and would be injured but kept alive to suffer the loss of mate and children. These were no ordinary wolves, oh no. These were in fact skinwalkers in disguise. The fight was brutal, both Soquili doing their best to stay alive and both trying to keep Senak safe. The skinwalkers were cunning though and led Hikaru away as they nipped at Senka’s heels and forced her to flee. Maddened by the annoying attack, the mare darted for an escape route she thought was nearby. She never saw the root that tripped her, but she did see the predators coming and oh did she see what they did to her. Screaming and begging to be spared for her foals’ sake, Senka shrieked and wailed as poor Hikaru, mangled beyond recognition and quite dead, was dragged back into her line of vision. Dumb with shock, Senka only barely felt her belly ripped open and her young removed from the safe haven they had known for such a short time. It had taken all of thirty minutes for this to happen and afterwards, numb and broken, the blue mare had lain there for days. Futilely she tried to use her horn on what had been left of Hikaru and one of her unborn foals, but it did no good. “What could is this horn if I cannot save my beloved mate or my poor child?” thought the poor traumatized mare. Barely healed, this is how Oyohusa found her. He made his offer and not truly understanding, Senka agree to his way to start over.
The red covered everything as Senka struggled to stand and snarled in anger at the one who had cursed her. The fleeting memories were gone now forever and all she wanted was to have his blood, no, any blood. Sweet, coppery flowing blood and this was all she desired. Leaving the place that had no meaning to her now, Senka began to hunt. Her form shifted easily to that of her feline form and she slunk silently through the shadows she was named for. Thus was she reborn as the perfect killer. No emotional ties and no memories to hinder her, only the urge to make the world bleed for her. The pain slowly faded as the mare faded from sight, leaving Oyohusa to chuckle maniacally. “Another one is born…” cackled the old one. Coughing a little he continued in a hoarse voice, “That horn will bring such beautiful death and chaos to the Kawani.” Then the old one vanished, once again in his other form and roaming the land.
Cries of terror and pleas for mercy rang out through the night and the only sound that was different was the cry of a cat bringing down her prey.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 11:33 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Dabih (In the constellation Capricornus, the beta star which is named Dabih means 'Slaughterer' xD Thought it was suiting from her breed and pelt!)
SW's Temper: Judgmental
Prompt Response:
How dare he, this two legged demon trickster which deceived her so.
Her eyes burned as if they were indeed on fire, the embers traveling through her veins to burn her alive in her own flesh. Dabih felt the urge to cry out in pain, yet her lips remained shut tightly as pride was still such a strong factor even in her last fleeting minutes of what felt like her very life. Breathing became so difficult as her muscles began to tense in an effort to drive off the pain, but it was to no avail. Nothing was working now, the basics senses that she’d taken advantage of for so many years now failed her....was this what death was like, and would eternally be? Surely she would be heading not to heaven; but hell. It was hard to believe that such a pure creature would be going to such a place of damnation...yet there was always something dark within her heart, one that not many could ever see.
Dabih was like most unicorns, peaceful creatures which wandered the lands in an effort to heal the good and punish the evils. However, this mare had a dark flaw in her design...selfishly judging whom had the privilege to be healed, and who would be damned to die. It was her own little twisted game of playing god...but not all of this game proved to be sinister. It was actually how she’d met her mate, a wonderful stallion who worshiped the ground she walked about, often calling her angel for her mercy and given abilities to heal the sick and wounded. Dabih was happy, healing him from a Kalona attack that he’d managed to barely escape from...the mare found a newfound sense of possessiveness. She wanted to keep her prize safe, as he was indeed the ideal stallion for her!
That was until....they produced foals.
They were the most beautiful of little creatures, bearing their mother’s breath-taking eyes and their father’s dashing good looks. She was so proud of them as her motherly ego was pushed up a few notches. However, that desire to keep them safe was mind consuming. Sure she would be able to heal her babies if they got hurt...but what if they were killed, she couldn’t raise the dead!
That was when she’d met him. The human in the pelt cloak.
He’d promised her power...strength. The ability to turn into an animal (a predator no less!) whenever she desired. Dabih could turn into an animal and protect her foals from harm, the strength to ward off anyone who got in her way. Hastily without a second thought, she’d agreed whole heartedly....only to be gifted by death it seemed.
How could she have been....so selfish?
----*----
The fire dulled, soon leaving nothing but tingling ashes in its wake on her body. The mare awoke with nothing, no memories, trailing emotions of what happened....nothing. Even the man in the pelt she’d blurrily seen once she awoke had vanished into the moonlit night. Struggling to her hooves, the mare felt a twisting hunger in her soul, for anguish, torture....and of course...blood. Trying to lick her parched lips, her heightened senses could pick out every detail of her surroundings...including what was on its way to her location. A set of heavy hoof beats, followed by two sets of light ones. Her teeth ached to sink into warm flesh, as her pelt tail swayed in the gentle breeze behind her.
“Dabih...?” The stallion spoke softly as he emerged from the shadows, a horrified look of confusion crossing his features as the two foals remained close to their father. The skinwalker slowly turned her head back to gaze blankly at the trio, the winds howling through the clearing with an eerie force. Slowly her lips curled back while the hairs of her pelt tickled at her cheeks, a smooth, almost loving sounding voice rose from her lips. “Come here....little ones.” It seemed this stallion knew her, spoke her name with such tender concern. Were these foals his? Were they somehow related to her? It looked like such...but no matter. She knew exactly how to play this out to keep the situation in her favour.
“Mommy will save you...”
A fatal mistake for her foals, as the moment the excited pair ran to their mother her body twisted and morphed into that of a predatory feline. With agility and speed on her side she was able to grasp one by the neck and drag the screaming, agonized foal to the other before killing them both with her dagger like claws and canines. Their blood, her own foals bleed out onto the dark soil as the hot liquid began to stain her hooves. Turning her hollow eyes towards the stallion, he didn’t move...couldn’t move as his body began to tremble. His foals...killed. His mate....a monster. He wouldn’t escape this...and with his heart bleeding to death in his chest from heartache....he knew he was dead even before she thought about killing him.
Without a moment’s notice she lunged, dashing across the meadow till she could feel his horrified gasp of air before closing her jaws around his neck. Claws tore at his flesh, splattering his blood all over the ground and on her pelt as she savoured – no...relished in satisfying her addiction. He was hers now, tearing off a chunk of his shoulder as he lay screaming in agony on the cold hard terra. However...this wouldn’t last forever. He would die and the fun would be gone, pouting slightly as she prowled around the stallion, the mare ho-hummed as if she was a cat with a mouse. Sure, she could get other prey and keep killing to satisfy this new deadly love affair with death....but now what fun would it be to let them die?
Oh my.
Lips pulled back to reveal the most wicked of smirks, rows of glistening teeth reflecting the moon’s soft glow. The calculating mare shifted back to her equine form, looking down on the pained, heartbroken stare of the stallion at her hooves. He wished, no...longed for death. How selfish of him! Leaving her alone, bored and craving. Well, selfishness wasn’t going to be tolerated...no. She would be selfless and well....heal him. Lowering her horn she watched as the ethereal glow eloped his body, wounds began to stitch together torn muscles and flesh...broken bones creaked and snapped back in place. Even his features which began to take on a deathly ill look rejuvenated back to life. However, it was the look on his face which was priceless....a sliver of hope etched across his features.
“Dabih....my love....are you back?” He whispered out, pleading with the merciful gods that his love had come back to her senses!
“I have never left...dear fool. You will be mine for eternity...I’m simply addicted to you...” With manic vocals in her laugh, she dove back down to feast on his flesh, watching and loving to see him writhe in pain and betrayal....only to have the cycle repeat itself over and over till his painful and defiant cries became sobs of hopelessness and agonizing truth that he’d have to relive it until she bore of him and finally – the love of his life would let him die.
Because it was those with the abilities to carry out judgement as they saw fit...that could be the only ones deserving to seek selfish joys for their “mercy”.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 12:17 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Talkita
SW's Temper: Vain
Prompt Response:
Talkita’s body burned as the powder fell on her. Pain seared through every nerve and every thought. Blackness began to wither across her vision. Memories flashed through her minds-eye. The first memories were clear and sharp. The first time she healed.
It was a rabbit with a new litter. It was going to die after the birthing. Talkita used her horn and healed it. She remember feeling joyful to have done a good deed.
Another memory, a little fuzzier than the first. Talkita was a foal, and it was a bright day. A young male foal was talking to her. He was making fun of Talkita’s coat. She did not understand why though. All the adults had always swooned and awed at her bright coat, with its gentle sweeping patterns. She was the envy of the herd. She remembered liking the feeling of having people talk about her. Some, like this male foal, were jealous and would say mean things about her. Talkita would just smile and laugh. she knew that she was beautiful, and so did everyone else.
That was were Talkita first started to change. She was too beautiful for her own good. All the compliments and attention had gone to her head and made her Vain. Everything had to be about her.
Visions of just how vain she was flood her mind now. Visions of her walking into a group of mares and making them feel worthless. Talkita would point to their ugly coats and laugh. So dull, so ugly, nowhere near as beautiful as me. She would pull males after her, like a puppet on a string, and make them think that she loved them. She would whisper kind words in their ears. Then, when they least expected it Talkita would break their hearts and leave them. No male was good enough for her.
Though, there was one stallion that did catch her eye. He was big and strong. There was a nobility to him that she thirsted for. None of my normal tricks worked on him. Then one day he spoke kindly to her. He told me he loved me. We spent much time together. It had to be love. Truth never hides for long though. He left her for another. He broke my heart and turned me out like some mangy animal. First, Talkita was confused, then sad, but all her feelings eventually turned into anger and hatred. How could he turn me out? I was the best, everyone wanted me! She found him two years later, and with another mare. They had three baskets at their feet. Talkita’s bottled anger broke loose and she lost all control. Soon the baskets, and mare, and the stallion all lay dead at her feet. I was not sure how I did it, but I killed them all. I was not sad. No regret filled me. No, I liked the feeling…a little too much.
The strange human found Talkita not long after this happening. He promised me beauty and power. He promised me magic and the gracefulness of a cat. I agreed, but I never thought it would hurt this much!
The pain lessened and Talkita gained conciseness. The human was gone. She turned Her head and saw the pelt that rested on her back. It complimented her coat beautifully. The human had not lied, I am even more beautiful. Dark thoughts crept into Talkita’s mind. Beauty is a strange thing. Many things are beautiful. Red is beautiful, and graceful movements are beautiful. A fuzzy memory slowly slipped into Talkita’s mind. Killing is a thing of beauty. The memory faded. No more memories came. She feelt no feelings of joy or happiness.
A sound split the quiet night like a gun shot. Something was screaming for help. I should go help them. I should put them out of their missory. For I am a beautiful person, and killing is a beautiful thing. It only makes sense for the beautiful to do beautiful things. Killing is beautiful.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 12:24 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Cressida
SW's Temper: Unstable
Prompt Response: Shivering, her coat slicked with sweat not from exercise but anticipation, she stalked the line of the trees. The night was still and silent, the moon heavy and glowing against a backdrop of silken black, and barely a breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. In the distance, there was a bonfire, with children laughing and dancing gaily around the flickering light.
It drew her; not the light, not the heat and the energy that flowed from a gathering of spirits. No, the laughter beckoned her, tickled something in the back of her mind that she couldn't recognize. It filled her with a hunger, made her jaws ache and saliva pool in the base of her mouth. Already there were tracks worried in the ground, deep grooves where her hooves had dug in and slashed while she paced the edge of the world, keen eyes following the tall shadows cast by the humans and horses alike as they frolicked.
She could not have expressed in words the desire she felt, she only knew that each time a foal on blithe legs danced away from the protection of the circle, her heart leapt. If she felt pain, it was only in the constricting of her muscles, the forced relaxation of tense limbs hunched over, ready to pounce. Each time hooves carried a young one back to safety, she felt the thrill of the wait more keenly.
Though alone, Cressida was far from without company; behind her, the shadow of a mare traced her steps worrisomely, never daring to get close enough to risk her wrath. Had she not been so occupied with the precious children, Cressida would have chased her away - and truly, she had found herself whirling twice already, jaws snapping toward the fleeting image of the mare, frustration mounting as her pale blue hooves disappeared into the night. A meddlesome creature, no doubt trying to protect the foals, but wise enough to keep her distance.
A high-pitched squeal flew to her, carried by the breeze, and stilled her. One hoof poised, she watched as a filly tossed her head and darted away from the others, her tail fanning playfully in the night. Cressida's breathing became short and fast, and she lowered her head, tail slashing excitedly behind her. Close enough... yes?
No! Back into safety she went, her eyes shining with the reflection of the flames. If she hadn't been so desirous of the hunt, Cressida would have galloped onto them, fed on the fear and terror as she feasted on their bodies and minds. Like the great feline fastened to her back, however, there was a method to her madness - a waiting game - the hunt to think of.
A branch snapped behind her and she spun, eyes rolling, fastening on the pale and resolute face of the mare. The impertinent whelp, did she really think that she, a filthy half-breed, would be able to distracted Cressida from the foals? Her horn glowed in the night, and her eyes, disconcertingly green, held fast to the skinwalker's. A challenge was in them, and in the space of a breath that their gazes collided, a memory fluttered at the edge of Cressida's mind.
It confused her, and it angered her. Lips peeling back into a snarl, she whispered, "Who are you, half-breed?" Even with the rasping breath of the damned, her voice whistled with the vestiges of a melody.
The mare didn't move, but her eyes welled with tears. Cressida laughed, the sound low and hot, almost a purr in her throat. One ear turned back, catching the noises of the bonfire, but her eyes raked over the mare's body, traced the familiar contours. Something cold shifted inside of her, and she began to circle, the pelt on her back shifting to the conform to her bunching shoulders.
Running her tongue over the edge of her lips, she began to circle the mare, amused when she shook her great mane and pawed the ground. Quietly, her voice more of an echo than substance, the mare pleased, "Not the children, catwalker... You love the children..."
Her laughter became a hiss, a disjointed snicker as the tip of her tail flicked back and forth. Her head low, she watched the mare turn circles, expression becoming more grim as Cressida edged closer. For fun, she nipped at the mare's hooves, laughing richly when she danced backward.
"Oh, I love the children." Rolling the word over her tongue, she repeated it, eyes bright with a manic light. "Love them, yes... Their bodies are so soft, untrained... Quite delicious, don't you agree, half-breed?"
"Stop it!" Stamping her hoof, the pale blue mare choked the order out, tears streaming down her face. The light flickered, and for a moment, Cressida could have sworn she saw the trees through the unicorn's chest. She was barely given pause, however, as the mare continued to speak. "You've forgotten yourself... this isn't you, Cressida..."
Who was this mare to speak to her? Eyes narrowed to slits, she growled, a low ripple in her chest as she snapped at her legs again. This time, the mare didn't move, but her mouth connected with nothing of substance. The light was playing tricks - the mare had seemed closer than she was.
"I assure you... I am quite aware of myself, half-breed." Her ears pinned a moment, and she glanced past the mare, seeking the children. They still played, and so she smiled, the expression a mockery of gentler times. "You're very determined... I enjoy you, mare."
Rearing, the mare kicked her legs in front of her, mane billowing behind her as she shouted, "Children! Run!"
Her playful attitude dissolved in a moment; fury gripped her, propelled her fluidly at the mare. Rather than collide, however, she simply passed through the image, her hooves biting into the ground and sending clumps of dirt flying behind her as she did. Her chest heaved, and she spun around, eyes darting wildly through the clearing. Where? She - her scent, the sound of her - where?
Cold air piecing her lungs, she bellowed her rage, the primal call splitting the night and tearing through the trees. In the distance, the children stopped playing about the bonfire, casting worried looks among one another. A colt peered into the distance, and in the next moment, his voice rang clearly through the night -
"Skinwalker!"
Screams filled the air, but they did not satisfy Cressida. The children scattered, and she turned, hooves pounding as she rushed madly at the fire. The loss of the mare plagued her, distracted her, and she began a futile chase; the foals disappeared, and in the face of the fire, she saw the mare.
Tears tracked down her cheeks, but her eyes were defiant, strong. Cressida snarled, the heat searing her eyes, and shouted, "Half-breed!"
The flames licked the sky, and from inside them, the mare shook her head. From behind her, she could hear the voice, so soft and sweet, as it whispered, "What have I become...?"
But when she turned, only the echo remained.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 12:49 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: Eiketsu
SW's Temper: Power
Prompt Response:
"That, That man... He shall pay for this... This pain is, is past anything that I have experienced before... My father was a cruel being, but this, this man has past that mark. This pain exceeds anything that I received during the "traditional" Kalona training... This man promised me strength, This man promised me speed, This man promised me blood...
My father always pushed me to be the Kalona that HE wanted. He pushed me through the training that I have grown to despise. He dragged me through the sweat, blood, and hatred that came from being a Kalona. He showed me his way to hunt, maim, and kill the "lesser" races. He tried to force me to become him, To live like him, To kill like him, To loath like him. That is why I attacked him, That is why I left to find my own way, That is why I accepted this ""gift" from the strange two legger that could speak my language.
That is why I am going to bare through this pain to see what comes of it. That is why I have accepted this pain. I am going to be my own Soquili. I am going to prove to my father that I can think for myself, fight for myself, hunt for myself. That is why I am going to track this two legger down. That is why I am going to kill this two legger, for the pain that he is causing me.
AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The pain, the unbearable burning pain that is coursing through my veins. This two legger shall die. He will die. I will track him down, rip out his throat and dance on his corpse...
The..... pain.... it's... to... much... must rest... then... I... shall... hu.. nt..”
Dawn... A new day... A new Begining...
“This strength that I feel... The smells that I can pick up... The hunting shall be exquisite, the blood shall run in rivers, The agonized screams shall ring through the night... I am me. I am a force to be reckoned with. I am INVINCABLE...
But… Who am I, How did I get here, and why do I have this power… But then again who cares… I shall be a terror in the night. I shall kill, maim, and chase the creature of this world, Soquili and two leggers alike. I shall become a story that all shudder to hear and that all use to frighten there little foals, to scare them into submission and to make them obey…
But first a little fun... That village looks to be pleasantly full of life and happiness that I can turn to death and fear..."
Eiketsu trots of towards the Kawani village looking for a little sport; wanting to try out his new strength, speed and above all else find joy in the death, despair, and chaos…
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 1:36 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Citlali
SW's Temper: Veiled
Prompt Response: She had been neutral ground; the inbetweener. Her horn was not broken, nor did it gleam. She did not heal those unworthy, did not step in to be courageous and divine.
Citlali had been the inbetweener, like a shade in the time of eventide.
When she had heard the Kawani had been struck by Oyohusa, she did not feel pity for them, nor did she mourn for any of the victims.
Fate had aligned for it to be so, and so Hell walked in the flesh. She had never thought that he would choose her to fall from grace; to walk in the night as a feline, it seemed impossible...But the strange two legger with his even stranger smile had offered Citlali the moon and more. How could she decline such an offer?
She was superior. Even to other unicorns, she had thought herself the tallest, the best, the one without tainted judgment...how far she had fallen.
Foolishly blinded by the promise of another life-- and the scorching pain of death in her veins proved it.
Memories flashed before her; turning away suitors, looking down her nose at those in need. Perhaps the strange ambassador of Hell had seen something she had long thought made her superior, and saw it for what it truly was. Cruelty. She was not just to turn away a foal that had been left without a mother; merely selfish and horrified by the idea of being a mother.
Her flesh twitched, and Citlali knew her innards were changing. It was like a seed that had been planted long ago taking root, long before she was a full grown mare.
It was as if it were fated, her fall from grace. The mare reigned upwards, forelegs kicking even as she felt the pelt of another weighing her down, the weight of her sins upon her--
and when she fell to the ground, legs restlessly kicking up the dust around her, vision obscured by the dead carcass of a feline that would be her vessel, Citlali changed.
Balance was foregone; like a scale weighing a feather and a rock, justice tipping to be viewed at an askew angle. The cords in her neck strained, sweat covering her body, obviously a pitiful attempt at a revolt against the curse.
But the mind is stronger than the body, this Citlali knew well. She felt ill-- not that it mattered. Darkness was crawling around the corners of her mind, and it was not like she had feared, it was less a perversion and more an embrace of familiarity. A feeling of homecoming.
The mare had been right to shove away those that wished to be dear to her, it was obvious through the final stages of her curse that life did not need saving. Her precarious moral compass balanced life and death irregularly: throughout the course of her life she had never saved a single horse, despite the power to do so.
She had refrained, for fear of being imbalanced.
No such worries filled Citlali's mind, now, as the curse completed. She slowly stood again, knees buckling before she could kick her hooves, braying in maniacal laughter.
She had been so blind, before. To think, she had wasted so many years watching life as a passive entity, rather than aiming to destroy it. The world cleared around the mare as she started to shift. The night grew louder, the smells stronger, the heartbeats of life all around her tha-thudded.
A feline, now, starry and green eyed, and though Citlali still felt faint from her rebirth, it was invigorating. She felt the need to murder, for too long the scales had been weighted against Death in favor to Life, an unfair game.
It was her duty to level the playing field. For too long had the gift of life been a curse upon this world. In the cycle of rebirth, Oyohusa had shed her halfblood skin and had donned a far more important role in life.
The mare had plans, grandiose and cruel-- in her cat form, she bound in the darkness, to follow the cry of a babe in the night.
Oh, Citlali had plans, she had plans indeed.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 4:12 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: aoyo "Blue Night"
SW's Temper: Chilling
Prompt Response:((deciding to try first person))
The pelt wearing human has poisoned me, I should have never trusted a two legger who wore a pelt and spoke my language.
He said he'd make everything better and I believed him.
But all I have is a rotten feeling, inside out.
Every time I drew a breath, it felt as if every air particle had turned into a shard of glass scrapping inside my lungs and cutting through them, and my muscles, the tensed, so hard it felt as if I had the worst all over cramp possible.
Her spin momentarily contorted, my skin had burnt where the pelt had appeared, it was heavier than I'd expected it to be.
My eyes watered and my brain rattled in my head, but soon a cooling feeling rushed over me and I forgot who I was.
All of my friends and my mate, where I lived, all the best places to get food.
How I used to squint my eyes when I smiled.
My calm and loving self had totally gone.
Now all I wanted to see was blood, death,soquili innards and suffering.
My stomach clenched and I was ready to take out anything in my way, as my mucles loosened allowing me to move.
I tried to take off the pelt, but I couldn't so I left it and stepped into my new life.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 4:17 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: Tokayu
SW's Temper: Resolute
Prompt Response:
He was a father. The thought couldn't escape his mind. He was now a father. Two foals, both male, had emerged from their baskets only a day ago. Already he had begun to train them. His sons would be strong, their blood was pure. Handsome as well, just as their mother was beautiful. He had chosen his mate well, though her short temper was her only flaw. He had made the perfect family.
Tokayu had only wanted a better future for his sons and mate. He wanted to better himself for them. Thinking of it, the offer of the two legger had been most pleasing. He had offered him the ability to change into another form. What better offense was there than the ability to fool your prey? With this ability Tokayu could not only excel at physical warfare, but mental as well. Those he could not take down with brute force he could lure into false security with his second form, then rip their throats out. It was perfect, and once he mastered his own form he would give second forms to his sons.
But as pain ripped through his body, his veins flooding with fire as if his blood was boiling in his veins, he wondered if this two legged being had used just such warfare on him. Had he indeed lured him with is offer in order to kill him? It didn’t matter now, it was too late. Already he felt the beings foul powder working it's way though his body. All he could do was hope that his sons would grow to make him proud, grow to respect the Kalona way, grow to be strong, grow to please the Raven God.
Tokayu did not cry out in agony as he felt himself being burned alive from the inside out. He did not flinch. To do so would be a shame to himself and his family. He would not show weakness. As he slipped into the darkness of what he believed to be eternal slumber, he made his final silent prayer to the Raven Mocker.
----------------------------
Harsh tones pulled the creature from his slumber. A mare, red in hue with black markings stood over him, shouting. The creature could not understand her words at first, but slowly they became clear.
"Get up Tokayu! Get up now! You were gone all night and day, what on earth have you been doing? I said get up, did you not hear me?" A sharp impact on the side of the creatures head made him want to snarl in anger; but he made no sound. Had this mare actually dared to touch him? A spade tail withdrew from the side of his skull, returning to its owner. She had! And yet he still did not move.
"Dad, you're supposed to be teaching us more today."
"Our training just started and you're already slacking Father? A pity..."
Two colts. Who were these vermin to call him father? It didn’t matter. They lived, and that was a crime all its own.
The mare moved once again, this time to peer at her mate and the pelt he wore. It was her last move. As she drew closer to the 'slumbering' beast, he striked. One life down, two to go.
----------------------
A small wolf slowly walked down a moonlit path, his pads falling silently on the brown dried leaves. Three corpses lay behind him, torn to shreds. He had simply left them to rot; he hadn’t been hungry after all when he had killed them. They had simply been alive when he saw them, and that was all the reason he had needed to attack. But now that their nascence was gone, what reason did he have to stay? He found no reason, and thus he pressed on. Up ahead odd creatures bumbled about, clumsy beasts walking on two legs. Wolves, coons, and foxes ran about with them. It'd be simple for him to slip in with them, this disguise was perfect. Silently, tail waging, he made his way towards the living.
They lived after all, and that was enough for him to hate them. What more reason did he need?
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 8:08 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Cadence (Siltym if Skinwalkers are in a habit of changing their name)
SW's Temper: Unforgiving
Prompt Response: Disgusting. The lot of them.
Especially that child.
Sharp green eyes scanned over the bloody scene, like the inside of an abattoir. A whole herd, cut down, sliced, shredded, bitten, mutilated. It seemed a shame that she'd realised too late that her horn could prolong one's life so that she could carry on torturing it. But never mind, it was a tool she could use in future instead, for this certainly would not be the last herd she would encounter and inevitably destroy.
With a delicateness and air of grace that contrasted so disturbingly with her actions from mere moments ago, the beautifully marked mare picked her path through the blood, the strewn entrails and flesh. Lifeless forms all around her. She felt a calm satisfaction, and indeed coupled with her otherwise serene exterior, she looked like a unicorn from the stars.
Save for that pelt. It was now as much a part of her as the horn was, and it carried its own weight as well. It was her power now, her ability to shift into a most bloodthirsty and ferocious beast, the means by which all this carnage lay before her.
Unfortunately, it had come at a price...
...Mere days ago, the starry mare, then known as Cadence, was the care-giver and matriarchal figure in her own herd. She had a beautiful family - no steady mate to speak of but that had never bothered her - and a strong herd. She was by no means the leader, but she was everyone's mother or big sister. And she had her son. Her only child but he was all she could have asked for. She doted on him, almost to suffocation, and catered to his every whim. It made her a very strong-willed mare, a fighter. She shuddered at the though of harm coming to her son.
So imagine her dread when a foal of the herd was lost to the claws of a wild beast. They all did everything in their power, the stallion fought admirably, but the foal was still lost. The herd was distraught for days, and even took the precaution of removing themselves from this, their home and favoured grazing patch, to ensure safety.
Of course Cadence wasn't against this. She was all for it and had to waylay many members' apprehensions about moving. There could be beasts elsewhere as well. But they all had faith in Cadence's word. She was the most steadfast of them, so resolute and stubborn and dedicated that she could do no wrong.
Things seemed peaceful in their new home, but there came whispers on the wind of more predators, and more creatures, on two legs this time, that captured and tortured peaceful beings. But amongst the whispers came something else. A chance to fix their fears. Rumours of a two-leg who offered a great power to anyone needing it. The power to become something else.
Well Cadence fought for this also. She convinced the herd that one of their rank should seek this two-leg, at least discover what was involved and pray that the power would be enough to protect the herd for life. Imagine, she said, one of us able to scare off predators and monsters. We need never think of fear again. Cadence was voted as 'the one', and deep down, she actually wanted to be the one. Such an honour, protector of the herd. And such a legacy for her son, perhaps something he could follow as he grew.
But these things were never meant to be. She should have been wary the moment she met this strange two-leg, this alien creature who somehow spoke their language, understood her, and whom she could understand as well. No two-leg so far had ever been able to understand. But his words had snaked their way into her head, taken hold and root and flowered into a most deadly flower. This power...this ability to shift shape...he made it sound so glorious! So useful. Cadence had to chastise herself slightly for the lust of power, but that was a sign it was too late. It had taken hold. She asked for the power, to protect her family. But reasoning was lost on this two-leg, it mattered not to him.
And it would matter not to Cadence soon enough.
The bone-wrenching pain coursing through her was agonising, but she told herself it was necessarily. That was at least until she could no longer hear herself, not even in her head. It was the last to go, the mind. Her body had gone through the changes necessary, her mind left to dwell on what was left. Even right to the very end, perhaps in denial of what was really happening, she looked on her memories with that fortitude, that faith she would protect them with all her strength and will.
Cadence died that day. What stood in her stead was not Cadence...
...The child, the disgusting foal lay at her hooves. Throat slashed to ribbons, body riddled with deep gashes. Its starry appearance of no significance to Cadence, not anymore. She stared down at it, its limp body still somehow breathing. Green eyes met green eyes. Pleading, searching, loving. Met with disdain and disgust the likes of which the foal had never seen in its life, until now.
To kill it would be showing it mercy. Cadence stepped over it, a little smile just tugging at her mouth thinking of the slow death ahead of the foal. Its green eyes followed her as long as they could.
Cadence didn't do mercy.
Not anymore.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 8:27 am
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Vivala Estrella (Long Live the Star in Spanish)
SW's Temper: Quaint
Prompt Response:
“Why is that girl so strange?”
Mother may have thought that statement was simply a murmur, a whisper meant only for Father’s ears, but even as the stallion’s face drew into a deep frown, Vivala’s pricked ears had caught what she had said. At that time, she had thought her mother meant that she was unique, special, and simply pranced off to talk with the flowers, the animals, the trees. As a young foal, she had constantly insisted that communicating with them was such a delight, swishing her tail from side to side with a bright innocent smile plastered on her face. That had, however, not convinced her parents.
They had always thought she was a strange one, always somehow, displeased with her, although they tried not to show it. Oh, they had put in some effort; she would give them a standing ovation for acting as loving parents, nuzzling her, drawing their brows together in worry whenever she returned late. But oh no, she knew. They had always had the notion that something was wrong with her. It was probably because they had longed for a strong son, someone they would bring them pride, not a daughter that was fascinated with silly trivial matters of the world, like why the sky was blue.
As lady-like and as charming she was, she had never gained their approval.
It never really bothered her in the least. There were other matters she had to attend to, then to argue with them that her thoughts were simply ridiculous, to inform them that they thought wrong. Besides, they could always try again for other foals if they so badly wanted someone unlike her.
And so they did.
She remembered when her mother’s belly grew, and when she asked the stars why it was so; was she bloated with the juice of the apples she so constantly ate? It was then the baskets came, and she sniffed at them curiously that she realised she would have siblings.
Then, came the neglect.
Although Vivala hadn’t been concerned about the lack of true love her parents should have given her, it was when her siblings emerged that she realized exactly what she was lacking. Two sons were born, two brothers of hers who refused to go on her escapades and preferred to play with each other, and grew up to be fine stallions. Fine, delightful sons who brought pride to her parents, and Vivala Estrella was left in the shadows. She had been aware the care and concern given to her had been all an act, but nevertheless, an act was better, much better than being totally ignored.
Oh well, oh well.
Her last thoughts lingered on her family, as they slowly faded, leaving shadows of someone distant yet someone that should be close to her...blood was thicker than anything, was it not? What was it that she had been thinking again? She wondered dizzily. Those of kin, darkness, shadows, water....oh it was all so confusing....wait.
Blood.
That was the only word she remembered, as she arose, besides the name that had been given to her. Oh yes, it was a positively delightful word indeed! “Vivala Estrella,” She murmured, her thoughts growing hazy. “Long live the Star.” She chuckled, delusions swimming in her mind, oh the stars that twinkled, speaking to her. “Long Live the Star indeed.” Her gaze swept over her surroundings, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “And long live bloodshed.” She whispered, her blue eyes settling on a family of birds cooing to each other atop a tree, safe in their nest.
Or so they thought.
She stared at the feathers, the blood, the straw, strewn all over the grassy floor and then, on sudden impulse, threw back her head and laughed, smiling up at the sky. “Long live the Star.”
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 10:19 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: Kesabaran
SW's Temper: Restless
Prompt Response:
He had always been a patient stallion. From the very first painful lesson from his mother, he had taken the calm inner silence and made it his own.
"Well, it's not my fault if you starve," the mare had said, peering down at him with teeth bared in a semblance of a grin. "You'll have to learn to catch food on your own, I'm not going to bring you rabbits anymore. Be patient, you'll just scare them away if you pounce too soon." She had chuckled to herself and wandered off, leaving him alone with his aching belly and burrow chock full of mice he couldn't seem to catch. Only when he had found his calm center was he able to finally wait them out, and catch his dinner.
Patience had fed him, patience had given him wisdom through watching and waiting, and patience had rewarded him with the fear of those around him. While he grew up in the herd it gave him an advantage over the other foals his age. He wouldn't give himself up to anger, and that made him stronger than all the rest.
"Stupid head! You should go put your ugly face in a hole where nobody will have to see it!" He watched the irritating foal trot circles around him, shouting insults as he went. This was a common game, the foal mistaking his patience for weakness. "I'm gonna get my dad to chop off one of your stubby horns, you're no better than a unicorn." He kept a straight face even at that terrible slight, the words could only harm him if he let them, and he was already too deep in his inner silence to pay them any mind. He slowed his pace, and the timing was perfect. The foal screeched with pain as his leg sank deep into a well-scouted groundhog burrow, and the young bone was snapped with the force of his momentum.
His herd, they too had been delivered to him through patience. The alpha mare was aging, and although she had led the herd to prosperity there were those who would fall back on their violent natures and prematurely remove the herd from her grasp. He would instead take the time to think through the situation.
"You are not here to take my life?" She asked, and he said that was not his intent. She, like him, knew the value of patience, and was willing to hear him out. After a time of consideration, she replied. "I will teach you of leading the herd, in exchange for the last years of my life. My wisdom will not die with me so long as you are my safeguard. And when the wisdom is yours the herd will continue to prosper under your guidance." He had bowed his head respectfully. And then he... He...
All his memories seemed to swirl and run together as the pain reached it's peak, and he was powerless to hold onto them. They were slipping from him, emptying, hollowing him out like a shell. In the void of his soul grew a new emotion, it burned at him, scalding hot where there had once only been cold stillness. Violent anger. It goaded him to lash out, to abandon the calm center within, to destroy everything in his reach with reckless desire.
He would have destroyed that man for inflicting such rage upon him, that hateful human swathed in the skin of the dead, but he was nowhere to be found. In the absence of his prey the rage only burned higher. He ran blindly, he couldn't say when hoofbeats became the soft padding of paws, when the thundering charge became the racing of shadows through the darkness. His herd were fighters, all Kalona had that vicious blood in their veins, but it did not protect them from the monster he had become.
His past life had become a fleeting dream, gone by the time the sun rose. He moved on without a thought or feeling for the destruction of his herd. Patience... It was nothing more than feeding kindling before the flames would once again burn out of control.
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: (I'll come up with a name for her if I win)
SW's Temper: Vindictive
Prompt Response:
In a flash of delirious inspiration, she realized her descent into hate had started long before meeting this horrible human with that horrible powder.
Her mother had been so proud of her, from the moment she poked her head out of her basket. Her mother knew that beautiful horn, the legacy from her wandering father, could heal and bring happiness. She was raised with that goal, to give herself to those who needed her, and immersed herself in the joy of helping others.
When she was of age, she decided to leave the herd who sheltered her and protected her, and go out into the world and help others. The stallion she had liked since she was a filly offered to go with her. He was the son of the lead mare, and to think he wanted to go with her and protect her from the dangers of the world... It made her heart swoon. It would be a wonderful adventure, just the two of them.
She felt like she was walking on clouds during the days the two of them journeyed to the edge of the herd's land. He was as charming as ever, offering her the nicest places to sleep, finding them delicious grasses, watching over her whenever they caught scent of danger. He was a gallant knight in shining armour, and she was honoured he had chosen to make the journey with her.
But it wasn't meant to last. It was like he just became another person once they were free from the herd lands. The look on his face made her heart wither as he said he never wanted to travel with her. He said he hated her, always thinking she was more than everyone else because of that horn, always so naive and carefree. She never let anyone else be anything special. He only wanted to get away from that herd, and she was a convenient excuse.
He left her then. She had been abandoned. The following weeks did not treat her kindly, she had to learn herself where to sleep and what to eat. Many nights the rain caught her out in the open, and many days she ate the most bitter of weeds that made her belly ache, because she was afraid to try anything else.
The first soul she ran across was another mare, with a horn like her own. She had been overjoyed. After her ordeal the mare felt like a kind, benevolent soul, sharing her grass and taking her to be with the herd. She had forgotten how wonderful, how safe it felt, surrounded by others of her kind. But like the stallion, it seemed their attitudes would also change in a blink. The moment she let slip her mother was not a unicorn, the harsh light of disapproval lit on their features. They said she was not pure, and chased her out.
She continued her lone wandering, downhearted and full of doubts. Was there anyone out there who needed her help? Did she have no purpose in life? It was at this point she stumbled across a small clearing in the woods. There had been signs of struggle, and a stallion lay bleeding at it's center. His twin horns were bloodied, his leathery wings ripped, and she had never seen one as desperately needy as this one who's life was bleeding away.
She threw herself into the great effort of saving his life, and he said it had been one of those horrible unicorns who attacked him. He said he hated them. She was afraid to agree, and say that she hated them as well for shunning her. She was afraid to give herself over to the anger she felt at the world. He smiled, as though he could read her thoughts, and his spade tail swayed gently. Calmly. When she finally smiled in return, he lunged for her throat.
She wouldn't have escaped the Kalona if he hadn't been so weak from the blood loss, but a part of her wasn't sure escape was what she wanted. Was it natural for everyone to lead her along with deceptions and lies? Was her dream of helping others only wishful thinking?
She had been in tears when that frightful human had appeared and talked to her. He said she could be another animal entirely. That he could change her into something else, something that would not suffer being heartsick, and would not feel pain to cry. Something inside her said this could come to no good end, but why should she trust her feelings anymore? They had only gotten her duped, hurt, and attacked. No, she would take his offer, and become something else, and never hurt again.
The transformation seemed to last both an instant and a lifetime. Her lifetime. Spread once again before her eyes, now laced with the black tendrils of hate. The memories were not important, she cast them aside and revelled in the darkness that remained.
The horn, that healing gift from a past, forgotten life now brought healing of another sort. With that horn, with her teeth and hooves and claws, she could heal the hateful world. She would bleed it clean, destroy the poor creatures who suffered, and hurt, and cried, give them to the fearless darkness. She hated them, they should not live. Anything that suffered so should not be allowed to live. It was her duty, her pleasure, to fix this problem as vehemently as her long forgotten, once-upon-a-time counterpart sought to heal.
She would dedicate her life to her goals, and never be hurt again.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 2:52 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Astarte
SW's Temper: Vicious
Prompt Response: Astarte was confused by the pain she felt. She wasn’t told about this! She was promised the power to transform, but never was it mentioned that this much pain was involved. She felt herself falling, fading away. Memories came to her unbidden in a great rush, a flood of events and faces that were here and gone in nearly the same instant. No matter how she tried to cling to them they slipped away like water escaping into the parched ground. A thrill of panic seized her as she watched her life fading. She had been a healer of sorts, though her half-blooded nature restricted her. She had wanted to help others, to mend the wounds of those who were victims and heroes alike. The world was in such chaos and she had sought desperately to try to find peace amongst the pain.
As the memories rushed by Astarte managed to focus on one in particular from long ago. She was barely grown and so alone when she had come across a wounded foal. Oh how she had tried to save him! It seemed he’d been caught by something vicious in the night, and she was desperate not to let him die. She watched him drift away from her until he was gone. She felt weak, powerless, and from that point on she had sought a way to gain strength with her healing. When she had been told of this opportunity, to be able to transform, she was told also that she would be more powerful all around. She had hoped to become a better healer.
A voice deep within her began to laugh. The memories fled her mind with a speed that frightened her, but already those things she clung to were being perverted and replaced with a new voice, new thoughts. How powerful she would become, and yes she would be a better healer. It would come in handy when she was toying with her prey. After all, she wouldn’t want them to die before she was done. As yes, it would be an art and her masterpieces would be famous across the land! A cackle erupted from her as she opened her eyes to a new world. She grinned wickedly as she stretched muscles that seemed alien. Her body was strange to her, but no matter. She smelled blood nearby and it was time to move in. Some unsuspecting creature was about to have an unfortunate encounter with something vicious in the night…
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 3:34 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Marama (goddess of the moon and dead)
SW's Temper: Malicious
Prompt Response: They all died so quickly. She snorted and turned away from the dead body. She was bored and she was uncaring. Never would she wonder if she had hurt someones feelings or whether what she was doing was wrong or right. Everything was for her and her alone. Sometimes she killed out of pure boredom and some times there was the reason behind it. Most of the time she killed because it was fun.
She hadn't been like this. She had been a beautiful unicorn, one who would spend so much time in the moonlight, admiring the beauty that you could only admire in the moonlight. She was caring, loving. She had many friends and would happily play with young foals, some things hadn't changed. She still loved to play with young foals; how she played with them was rather different.
Once she would have raced them, played hide and seek and laugh when she finally found them. Hide and seek was a little different now. She would hurt the foals if she found them. She would batter them to death but no she wouldn't let them die, not yet. Sometimes she would find something else to kill in front of them and sometimes she would start ripping them apart. It was more fun to do such things while they were alive. Much more satisfying.
She was cruel, malicious. There was nothing about her now that seemed normal. She still looked beautiful, under that pelt that was continually attached to her. She knew such things, her beauty, not that she cared about it but if she stood the right way she could turn a head or two, as long as they didn't see the pelt. Then she would attack. Oh how she always had adored the attention of males. She would love it, adore it. She would flirt playfully and then wander off feeling somewhat proud of herself. Though never would she lead someone on so that they would get hurt.
She was a healer, a lover and now she was a killer and a hater.
Though she didn't really hate. She didn't care at all, if something was alive she would kill it, if it was dead it was boring. What was there left? She would just have to find something else to kill. The village.... one day.
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