Username:Zyktara
Equid Name: Zorva
Equid Age: 2
Story: It was storming when she was born. Her mother couldn't keep up with the stallions group, so he made them stop. The other three stallions circled around the clearing, making sure the group of kidnapped, in-foal mares couldn't escape and try to reach their home. After all, the stallions needed foals to start the group out right.
And soon whe was there. Lieing on the ground, shivering in the rain. As the drops poured down like little bullets or tears from God, the stallions began to nip at the mother. They drove the two away, but she fought back with all her might. She kicked, squeeled, and hoped her baby wouldn't be injured. Mothers instinct was her only chance.
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All the poor little filly could hear was the sound of rain hitting packed dirt, or was that the pounding of the others hooves as they left her mothers body in the dirt? She didn't know, she was too young to be without a mother. But that was when the bushes russled. The filly looked up, and even with her crossed eyes she could see a black stallion. The stud seemed disgusted by the body, yet even more apauled by the grubby palamino filly on the ground, bleeding slightly in the flank from the thornbush she backed into trying to escape.
The stallion bent down, swished his tail, and snorted towards her. A white cloud of lonlieness blew into the fillys face as the stallion trotted off, leaving the her to die. But in the stallions wake, a human came. The woman had a gentle touch, a nice warm bottle of milk, and a loose lasso that she draped around the neck. She led the foal slowly through the woods untill the two came into a little barn, empty except for the black stallion and a little mare. That was when she noticed the scars. She ignored them at first, hoping they came from old homes. But as the recently captured filly soon realised, she didn't want to be in this barn.
The small food supply drained quickly. Each time one of the cows outside died, or the lady lost a lotery ticket, or anything bad happened the lady would take the whip and beat the equids mercilessly. She fed them once every few days, if that, and never cleaned out the barn.
One day, the mare had the foal she was due to have, and died when it came the wrong way. The bodies began to slowly rot, and even when the lady entered to beat the stallion and filly she didn't mess with the body. One day, when she was sprinkling little food pellets into the snow, the filly looked at her with a questioning eye. "Fine, Zorva," said the lady. So she hooked a harness to both the female, the stallion, and the body, conecting them together. Walking between the two live ones, she whipped them repeatedly, not allowing them to go anywhere and yanking hard on the bridles for turns. Of coarse, the woman had helped a little, pulling a rope herself, but the body of the starved and decomposing mare didn't weigh much anyways.
But that didn't stop the female from escaping.
Zorva kicked with all her might. She was whipped repeatedly in the process. But then teh rope snapped. Zorva took off, a broken harness wrapped around her. On her little trip to town, she was picked up by a nice group of people who helped heal her.