beware of me

It's a lovely fucking day in the neighborhood. The spotted devil lurks through the forest. Her emerald eyes lacking luster and any sort of general interest. It is her third year spent wishing she'd never been born and it only seemed that each year was worse than the one before. Maybe four would be the lucky number and finally put an end to her otherwise worthless and bland life. Maybe.

Hound's hooves tap lightly on the earth, her steps carrying her further and further into this new land. She cannot truly recall how she stumbled upon it, she doesn't really care to either. She snarls with disgust at the atrocities of 'equines' she passes. All so unique and bizarre looking, it's downright unnatural. Of course, some admire these genetic mutations that seem to grow worse over time. Hell, on her way in Hound watch a fucker land from the goddamn sky. The sky! Since when could horses fly? 

She wasn't too far off from unique looking herself. For someone who hates the spotlight affect, having a coat filled with giraffe like spots certainly drew attention to oneself. Of course, she hadn't exactly chosen to be born that way...or born at all. There is not a soul on this planet that the bitch hates more than her own mother, and that's including herself. A close second perhaps, but none surpassed the terrible monster that birthed her. She can hardly recall her mothers voice, she rarely heard it. In fact, she barely remembers what the woman looked like. Spotted, more than likely. All Knabstrup's pretty much looked like identical twins, all spotty and flashy. 

So anyway, Hound stalks through the forest, with no destination or plan in mind. Eventually, the cold begins to take its toll. Her bones begin to feel frostbitten, the harsh air embracing them in a hug. She smiles, the cold feels wonderful. Winter is her favorite season. It is cloaked in death, and the end of lives of all kinds. Hound can't help but think of all the foals birthed in the warmer months who's mothers may be childless by the spring. Her smile widens slightly. She'd been pregnant, once. What happened to the little rat she was not sure. After a painful and annoying labor, she scoffed at the wobbly, awkward pup and left it on it's own. Perhaps someone found it and nursed it and it grew and was out there living a happy life. Probably not though. Hound isn't stupid. She knows the harsh realities of life and accepts them with open arms. Everyone dies, and the earth is still too populated. She cannot help she handles death and despair better than others. Of course, she doesn't really handle it at all. If anything, she welcomes it.

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