Anger. Rage. Madness.
They clawed their way through her body as the mare swung her head from side to side, eyes rolling and pupils dilated. Her iris was but an edge of green, the whites of her eyes nonexistent. Black darkness dominated. Her fur was matted, covered in dried sweat. Thick patches of scruffy, brown fur made up the bulk of her body. Her mane was tangled horrendously, the strands so interwoven it had the semblance of a birds nest.
The mark upon her rump glowed an ominous green, while her hooves shone with eerie bioluminescence. They always glowed more when the real her took over, the her that thirsted for blood and destruction. The internal conflict had reached its climax but a few minutes ago, and this time she was sure. The other her, the good for nothing, petty, afraid of everything, weak mare was finally subdued more thoroughly than ever before.
Her nostrils flared as a thick gas poured out of them. The burning in her throat was intense, but it could not be quenched by water. No, she needed more. Blood. Any blood. That of creatures, that of horses, that of humans. Saliva flooded her mouth. Everything alive was her food source. Nothing would stop her on her conquest. Drool dribbled down her chin as she gnashed her teeth together, stomping her hooves upon the ground.
Her senses slowly faded, instinct taking over as she prepared for the hunt. Her mind was devoid of all thought but one: Blood. Her breath came fast. She was naught but an animal.
But who would be her unlucky quarry?
