Required Daily: - Link an image of an in-hand draft horse.
in-hand draftOptional Daily: - Write a short story in your Raj’s point of view.
thereafterFrostiness. Not only around me, but also inside. It had been minutes, hours, days. Days that formed to weeks and months, until around half and a year had passed. Half and a year away from home, half and a year of fear and distruction. Half and a year of war.
I saw other falling, disapearing. One moment they were by my side, and the other... gone. But there was no moment to rest, no moment to remember. Not until now.
The war is over, but I, I feel empty. Cold and empty, burnt out. Like something was wiped out of myself. Like a shell, living but innerly fallen too.
Somehow, it doesn't matter if I get home, I don't care. What would it change? No one could take back what I've seen, what I've experienced.
I'm broken.
Never, fighting was the same like the last one and a half year. My time at the arena seems like a play compared to it.
I wish my mother was here and could give me an advice. Never, never in my life I was in need of it so desperatedly.
Optionals:1.
personality playlist wrote:
2.
tale (848 Words) wrote:The journey of Hope
The days passed, one seeming like the other. The Humans worried about Ranta, as he seemed to fade away each day more.
It was an especially cold day, when he suddenly stopped near a destroyed village, rising his head as high as possible, listening. Then, he started to move, faster and faster, towards one of the stables.
Ranta broke trough the door, rummaging hectically trough the rubble. A relieved snuffle has been heard, then Ranta calmed down.
Carefull, he made the last centimeters to the young foal. It was weak and hurt, but it was alive. It was alive, like a miracle happened and protected it. And in this very moment, Ranta decided that he had to live, to survive. Not for himself, but for this foal, to help it to grew and become stronger. Just like his aunt did after his mother didn't came back after the war when Ranta was a foal.
The humans came, helped him bring the foal out as he refused to got without it. It was a little filly, and the Humans named her: Hope. Hope, because of the hope she seemed to had given to Ranta.
Without any thought, Ranta laid himself next to the foal to warm it up and keep it warm. He was very caring, using all his energy to coddle the filly up. And over that, his hope and trust into live came back. He had a meaning, something he was needed for.
It took some time, but week after week Hope became better. She played with Ranta, casted out his dark thoughts.
But then, thy came across another village, altought it coulnd't be called that anymore. For Ranta, it was like a deja-vu, throwing him metally back into the war.
He was trapped, no way to escape, nothing he could to except to hide and .... a small foal head rubbed over his chest, brought him back into the reality. Hope. She was here, she was alive. He may had lost many friends, but this little filly survived. He needed to protect her. Ranta may had been unable to protect his friends, but he could protect her.
With sad eyes, Ranta leaned his head against Hopes. The little filly seemd to smile.
"Don't be sad, Ranta." She said. "Mom told me, I will see her someday again at the other side of the rainbow bridge. I'm sure you'll meet you friends there, too."
Ranta freezed. The rainbow bridge, sure! How could he have forgotten what his mother told him, what helped him trough the time he realised she would never be coming back? What he told the foals and young horses, when an old one had been gone from them?
"You should never forget that, Hope." Ranta said, rubbing his head against Hopes and slightly smiling. He might still feel guilty for not beeing able to save his friends, but he kinda was... able to make his peace with it. Because he had something where he could make up, he had to protect Hope.
It took another few weeks until Ranta finally was on the ground of his family-herd again. Young and old mares and stallions, fillys and colts. Mourning and sadness als all realized that he was the only one that came back.
It was an elderly mare that first saw Hope. "Who is this?" she asked. "Where did you find this filly, Ranta?"
Hope, as friendly as she was, seemed to smile. "I'm Hope! And Ranta is my Protector, my Hero, my Friend. He saved me when everyone else was already gone."
Ranta shooked his head. "It was not me who saved you, it whas you who saved me. Without you, I too may have never come back."
Hope jumped around him. "But you are! And that's what counts. And now, can we play something? Pleaaaaase?"
"Let Ranta rest my dear. I'm sure one of the other colts and fillys will gladly pay with you, look at this curious pack." The elderly mare was right, the younger fillys and colts already surrounded them, watching what Hope did."Ohhhhhh, Ranta, can I?"
Ranta nodded. "Of course you can. I'll watch from over here, okay?" His word was enough for Hope to go playing with the other young horses.
"She truely is good for you. I saw many horses return from war in my life, broken, hurt. Compared to them, you are dooing good. Stick to that Ranta, so you will survive. And, if I can give you any advice: speek about it, so it never gets glorified."
Ranta nodded. "I will. And if I ever see a war comming again, I'll do anything to prevent it, so something like this won't happen again."
Over the next months, a few others came back. And Hope not only helped Ranta to overcome his experiences from the war, but she helped the other ones too.
And altoghether, they worked hard to keep the peace that was achieved and strongen it, so it would last as long as possible.
3.
Note: the playlist today is splitted - the text of the first song also contributes to the daily optional, the texts of the other two contribute to the tale below. (Instead of all three songtextes contributing to the text below loke the other days.)