Ｔｈｅ Ｖａｌｌｅｙ
"Ever changing, but ever present. Where there is land, the wild horses roam."
A thick fog had rolled in, aiding the heavily pregnant mare in her escape. She feared not only for her life, but for her foals. Her ears flattened as she pushed herself to her limits, trying to escape the horrors of a herd she had once called family. All had been fine until a stallion had come out of no where and claimed the herd as his own. The herd had previously been composed of mares and stallions of all ages and sizes; a place where the two genders could live it peace. A mare could call a stallion her own. And even though it was not natural for horses to live this way, the methods worked, and the herd had lived in peace for as long as she could remember.
But things had changed after the stallion Diablo, as he was called, arrived. The first being that all the stallions were chased out of the herd by some of Diablo's followers, and the stallion himself. His followers were brutal and unforgiving, and very rarely did they show any kindness or mercy. In the months that followed foals that had not been sired by Diablo or his followers were kicked out and left to die, along with some of the mares that resisted Diablo's rules. Once they left the herd they were never seen from again. Mares who were not up to par, including elderly, or yearling mares that Diablo did not like were chased off as well. Only the choicest were kept for the greedy and oppressive stallion.
When spring rolled around Diablo chose two mares to breed with. One, a white mare named Faith was killed by a cougar shortly after giving birth. Her foal was given to another mare to raise. The other was a small, delicate paint mare named Rayne. Rayne is the mare that fled from the herd that fateful morning when the fog rolled in.
You must understand that Rayne hated Diablo and all that the herd had become. She did not wish to raise her foal there, and so she took her chances, gathered her strength, summoned her courage and fled the land. She traveled for many days, stopping only to drink, eat and rest for short periods of time before moving on. It was in this manner that she covered many miles. By the time she reached the Valley she had traveled over 100 miles, and was weakening rapidly. Her foal was due any day, and strain, had no doubt been placed on the baby. The Valley stretched for miles, farther than she could see. Much of it was open grassland that eventually gave way to trees, which, in turn, gave way to mountains. These mountains bordered the Valley on all sides, serving as protection, as walls against the "outside world."
Rayne had just lowered her head to take a long drink of water when she first felt the sharp pains that could mean only one thing. Her foal was coming. Within moments she had collappsed on the ground, too tired to stand any longer. Darkness engulfed her. And slowly, a small wet foal, covered in patches of chestnut and white silpped into the world. Rayne gently cleaned her foal, and named him River, for he had been born next to the Great River of the Valley. He grew slowly, but Rayne never really recovered from his birth. After a year she was still ailing, but River thrived. When she finally passed away, he was overcome with grief. River stayed in the valley for several days, roaming the land and looking for others of his kind. And soon they came, drawn to the valley like his mother had been. It was a refuge, an unexplainable refuge but a refuge all the same.
Welcome to the Valley.
But things had changed after the stallion Diablo, as he was called, arrived. The first being that all the stallions were chased out of the herd by some of Diablo's followers, and the stallion himself. His followers were brutal and unforgiving, and very rarely did they show any kindness or mercy. In the months that followed foals that had not been sired by Diablo or his followers were kicked out and left to die, along with some of the mares that resisted Diablo's rules. Once they left the herd they were never seen from again. Mares who were not up to par, including elderly, or yearling mares that Diablo did not like were chased off as well. Only the choicest were kept for the greedy and oppressive stallion.
When spring rolled around Diablo chose two mares to breed with. One, a white mare named Faith was killed by a cougar shortly after giving birth. Her foal was given to another mare to raise. The other was a small, delicate paint mare named Rayne. Rayne is the mare that fled from the herd that fateful morning when the fog rolled in.
You must understand that Rayne hated Diablo and all that the herd had become. She did not wish to raise her foal there, and so she took her chances, gathered her strength, summoned her courage and fled the land. She traveled for many days, stopping only to drink, eat and rest for short periods of time before moving on. It was in this manner that she covered many miles. By the time she reached the Valley she had traveled over 100 miles, and was weakening rapidly. Her foal was due any day, and strain, had no doubt been placed on the baby. The Valley stretched for miles, farther than she could see. Much of it was open grassland that eventually gave way to trees, which, in turn, gave way to mountains. These mountains bordered the Valley on all sides, serving as protection, as walls against the "outside world."
Rayne had just lowered her head to take a long drink of water when she first felt the sharp pains that could mean only one thing. Her foal was coming. Within moments she had collappsed on the ground, too tired to stand any longer. Darkness engulfed her. And slowly, a small wet foal, covered in patches of chestnut and white silpped into the world. Rayne gently cleaned her foal, and named him River, for he had been born next to the Great River of the Valley. He grew slowly, but Rayne never really recovered from his birth. After a year she was still ailing, but River thrived. When she finally passed away, he was overcome with grief. River stayed in the valley for several days, roaming the land and looking for others of his kind. And soon they came, drawn to the valley like his mother had been. It was a refuge, an unexplainable refuge but a refuge all the same.
Welcome to the Valley.
.jpg)
.jpg)
