[nimrod.]

enjoy?

a few things about the competition, it will end on the 22nd of August, and the story must be at least 500 words, and no more than 1000, story must relate to them and mud c;

username;; iBrevity
name;; O Stars And Dreams // Aisling
gender;; female
eye color;; grey
sire;; -
dam;; -



Code: Select all

username;;
name;;
gender;;
halter color;;
story;;

[iBrevity]

username;; iBrevity
name;; O Stars And Dreams // Aisling
gender;; female
halter color;; maybe a baby blue? c:
story;; [610 words]
Aisling had always loved to imagine the "what if"s in life, the "maybe"s. She'd first thought of such things when she'd been but a weak-kneed foal, wondering where the horses who'd left the stables went. She asked her mother, who merely nosed at her and said with a sad smile, "I'm not sure, darling."

And so Aisling imagined it instead. She imagined that these horses did not go anywhere, precisely, but went sometime instead; maybe they were sent backwards or forwards to someone who needed them, or maybe they were willed away to a place that had no humans at all. She imagined that they lived in the thin line of forest running alongside the ranch, that they'd become the bears and the deer and the raccoons; she imagined that when the wolves howled it was them calling to one another, reminding the others that they were still in there somewhere, still themselves under a shaggy grey coat and gleaming yellow eyes.

She became fascinated with the woods and the animals that lurked within. She took to wriggling free from a small gap between fencing and exploring the trees for herself, to walking languidly among the bushes and berries with her head tipped back to spy sunlight among the branches. She became such a frequent visitor that the deer that lived there no longer feared her; that the little birds who so lovingly built nests and raised children did not stop their singing when she ran below. She loved what the forest offered her; freedom and imagination and wonderment. She loved having a secret from her mother.

One afternoon she squirmed free with the intention of finding a squirrel she had located a few days before. He'd been old, it seemed, stiff in his joints, and on the hunt for nuts. Aisling had located a tree that she thought might interest the fellow and so she set off with him in mind, paying little attention to her surroundings. Aisling had never gotten lost before; she'd always liked to think that each time something led her home.

The sun was setting and laying golds and purples along the ground and still she had not found the squirrel. She determined to turn back; she would not find him today, it seemed, and she would have to wait instead for another opportunity to sneak out. She went back the way she'd come, pausing to peruse a blackberry bush and when she'd walked for nearly an hour she'd still not found the fence. She was not worried, precisely. Aisling was a foal so wrapped up in her own head that she was rarely concerned with her well-being versus others. So she walked on, trotting when it became darker, running when the shadows chased at her heels like nipping dogs. When she finally found the fence she was so overjoyed that she was not careful when climbing through; and she fell into a thick pool of mud below, cooled by the dropping sun, hardened on the edges as the water retreated to the middle. When she stood, thick gobbets of mud clung to her coat. Much of her color had disappeared beneath the shadows and the guck and so she trudged back to her mother shivering, looking quite unlike herself.

Still, she was not worried. She walked with a smile, imagining that she herself had become something new, like those horses who had gone before her. Perhaps she was a bear, shaggy in her winter coat, the cooling mud nothing more than fur. Or perhaps she was something else altogether. Aisling had an amazing imagination, after all. She could be anything she could dream up.

[ShadyBro]

Username;; ShadyBro
Name;; And The Desert Hills Roll On /// Banjo
Gender;; Stallion
Halter Color;; Off-White W/ Mud Splatter
Story;; "I awoke to the dullness of a dreary sky, and stood shakily on rattled joints. I felt a drop of water hit my muzzle and slither down my cheek, then another and another. I scrapped my hoof against the ground, feeling the tender dirt give way underneath with ease. Smiling, I pranced out from underneath my tree canopy into the crying world as it fell around me. The chill curled along my spine and I shivered with anticipation. With a loud whiny, I was off, zipping through the gated field. I could feel the little pricks of splatter on my flank as my heels kicked it up, and the soothing muck coating my belly was divine. I slid to a stop at the edge of the fence, a spray of water flying behind me like a dust cloud. I bucked in the air as I turned, racing back the way I came, continuing the pattern again and again. The rut I had ripped into the earth became slick and dead by the time I was done, creating a river of delicious sludge. I dropped down, rolling like a dog in the deepest of the puddles, coating my body in the wonderful stuff. As I laid there and snorted bubbles into the murky water, I stared out at the back door of the barn. A human glared back at me, its arms crossed, and I couldnt seem to find his smile. I tossed my head, uncaring to his disdain, and galloped about my domain. My mud caked mane and tail whirled behind me awkwardly as the strands glued themselves to my coat. I purred at the sensation of water dripping down my face, washing the mud away and replacing it with the cool rain. The more I galloped the more the water peeled away my blanket of mudd, and the more I grew eager to drop down and create another coat. A flash above me lit the sky, and the colors flashed at my hooves as rumbles grew in the distance. I was made wary by the sound, by the vibrations echoing in my chest, and the rapid heart beat that ensued. As another flash lit up the world around me like a blaze of flame risen from the ground, darkness peered over the vale of the daylight hours. All seemed to become dull as the sky swirled to black and the clouds drew incomprehensible patterns above me. I cowered, in a way, fearing the way the storm held me in an ominous grip. The wind grew in intensity, ripping past my hide like razors. I cringed as my hair cut across my face, my eyes stinging as I clenched them shut. I huffed, pouring my anger out at the land, cursing it for destroying my play so quickly. With a sigh I cast down onto the ground and enjoyed one last dressing of the wonderful mire, before retreating to my willow canopy once again. There, I curled into the roots, as the hanging branches swirled in loops around me. I watched the world cry out and strike the ground with its lightning fury, and knew that it was not to blame. Sinking comfortably into the muddied earth, I closed my eyes, and sank into a mundane dream of puddles." (549 Words)

[kalon]

res

[nimrod.]

username;; iBrevity
name;; O Stars And Dreams // Aisling
gender;; female
halter color;; maybe a baby blue? c:
story;; [610 words]
Aisling had always loved to imagine the "what if"s in life, the "maybe"s. She'd first thought of such things when she'd been but a weak-kneed foal, wondering where the horses who'd left the stables went. She asked her mother, who merely nosed at her and said with a sad smile, "I'm not sure, darling."

And so Aisling imagined it instead. She imagined that these horses did not go anywhere, precisely, but went sometime instead; maybe they were sent backwards or forwards to someone who needed them, or maybe they were willed away to a place that had no humans at all. She imagined that they lived in the thin line of forest running alongside the ranch, that they'd become the bears and the deer and the raccoons; she imagined that when the wolves howled it was them calling to one another, reminding the others that they were still in there somewhere, still themselves under a shaggy grey coat and gleaming yellow eyes.

She became fascinated with the woods and the animals that lurked within. She took to wriggling free from a small gap between fencing and exploring the trees for herself, to walking languidly among the bushes and berries with her head tipped back to spy sunlight among the branches. She became such a frequent visitor that the deer that lived there no longer feared her; that the little birds who so lovingly built nests and raised children did not stop their singing when she ran below. She loved what the forest offered her; freedom and imagination and wonderment. She loved having a secret from her mother.

One afternoon she squirmed free with the intention of finding a squirrel she had located a few days before. He'd been old, it seemed, stiff in his joints, and on the hunt for nuts. Aisling had located a tree that she thought might interest the fellow and so she set off with him in mind, paying little attention to her surroundings. Aisling had never gotten lost before; she'd always liked to think that each time something led her home.

The sun was setting and laying golds and purples along the ground and still she had not found the squirrel. She determined to turn back; she would not find him today, it seemed, and she would have to wait instead for another opportunity to sneak out. She went back the way she'd come, pausing to peruse a blackberry bush and when she'd walked for nearly an hour she'd still not found the fence. She was not worried, precisely. Aisling was a foal so wrapped up in her own head that she was rarely concerned with her well-being versus others. So she walked on, trotting when it became darker, running when the shadows chased at her heels like nipping dogs. When she finally found the fence she was so overjoyed that she was not careful when climbing through; and she fell into a thick pool of mud below, cooled by the dropping sun, hardened on the edges as the water retreated to the middle. When she stood, thick gobbets of mud clung to her coat. Much of her color had disappeared beneath the shadows and the guck and so she trudged back to her mother shivering, looking quite unlike herself.

Still, she was not worried. She walked with a smile, imagining that she herself had become something new, like those horses who had gone before her. Perhaps she was a bear, shaggy in her winter coat, the cooling mud nothing more than fur. Or perhaps she was something else altogether. Aisling had an amazing imagination, after all. She could be anything she could dream up.

congratulations c:

[iBrevity]

Eeep thanks rachie, I love this little gal cx