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Valensia · 01-22-2018, 09:49 PM

XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient(startColorstr='#5a605e',endColorstr='#5a605e',GradientType=0)}.valensia_quote{position:relative;z-index:21;color:rgba(230,207,193,0.8);font:13px 'Sofadi One',cursive;text-align:center;padding-bottom:20px}.valensia_text{position:relative;z-index:12;font:13px 'Cutive Mono',monospace;text-align:justify;padding:20px;width:410px;color:#e6cfc1;margin-top:-62px}.valensia_name{position:relative;z-index:17;font:50px 'Astloch',cursive;color:rgba(230,207,193,0.8);text-align:left;padding-left:10px;text-shadow:0 0 10px #6e2327;margin-top:-50px;margin-bottom:45px}</style><center><div class="valensia_border"><div class="valensia_background"><img class="valensia_pic" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/d7/7f/f2/d77ff22fcc23927cf303616613502352.jpg"><div class="valensia_grad"></div><div class="valensia_name">Valensia</div><div class="valensia_text">
She keeps alert, her tail switching agitated against her hindquarters. Every sense is trained on the expected appearance of family. She waits, and waits, and waits some more. Time here is a funny thing, and she can’t tell if its been a few minutes or a few hours, but all the same she decides to take a look around her. In a way it’s a natural feeling, but she can sense the unnatural angles that she is seeing. Not far away she spots Gansey, she almost leaps with confidence in the fast that a rescue is eminent. <b>Gansey!</b> She squeals excitedly moving closer to him. Once again, the movement feels natural, but she can sense how off it truly is. The thick blocky name follows her taking the place of her shadow each step bringing her closer to the grullo boy. She shoves the nagging inkling that thing isn’t right to the back of her mind focusing all her energy on getting to Gansey so they can get out of here.

Sadly, things are never that simple when people outside of the Beqanna world get involved. First his name fades away, then his body. To be fair, all the horses around her seem to be fading away, leaving no trace that they ever existed. She is extremely confused at this and ends up stomping her little hoof in frustration. Where previously there was no noise, now she yips as the sound of hoof against straw shocks her. With what should have been a simple hop she clatters backwards butting into wood. Already shaken the roan girl lunges forward trying to get away from whatever it was at her back only to once again be blocked by wood paneling. Her head held high she squeals her displeasure pushing the length of her neck against the boards. Panicked Val’s breath comes in large gasps. Indignant at her situation, the filly flares her wings, shaking in her knees. <i>Valensia</i> a warm gentle breeze carries a genderless voice to tickle her ears.

<b>Wh-who’s there</b>?! in response white hot pain rips through her shoulders forcing unbidden tears into the corners of her eyes. She tries to clamp down her wings to protect them but only finds pain where their muscles used to be. She hears the muffled thump of feathers and the clatter of bones tumbling to the floor. Sick with dread her neck swerves so she can look at one wing then the other; seeing them there is all it takes for her heart to plummet. The sight of the severed limbs, lifeless as they whither until all they are, are piles of ash is almost too much for the innocent girl. They brought her freedom, and a way to fit in with the misfits of her family. Now. They are just gone; just as her life is gone.

<i>Don’t worry Valensia, I’m here!</i> The voice is neither male nor female and distinguishing an age from it is impossible. Primly a little blonde girl with pigtails slides open the stall door before smoothing out her white summer dress. Banded with satin, and flaring around her knees, she looks the picture of innocence with a pair of Mary janes, and lacy folded socks on her feet. Val takes stock of her for a moment; the girl’s head is down, and her hands are folded neatly in front of her. Just as Val opens her mouth to speak, the girl snaps her fingers, taking Valensia’s voice, leaving in its place only a crude whicker. As if things were not too weird already… Valensia can feel the droplets of sweat rolling down her neck from the stress. The girl doesn’t raise her head even a fraction, <i>Shhh, its okay, I have a proposal for you. If you want out of here, if you would like to become something more than you are, Valensia, find me in the thicket of the forest. Its not going to be easy, you’ve never had to deal with a challenge in your life, but come find me and I’ll make you into something more than you are.</i> The girl turns on her heels and walks out, never looking up at the filly.

At first Valensia sniffs her nose at the offer, fully believing that father will come for her. Waiting in the stall becomes very boring very quickly. The door still open, her honeyed eyes suspiciously glower at it. Half the day passes as she debates over accepting the offer or not, coming close to the door, and then backing away from it on several occasions. Tempted by the promise of magic, she finds herself in a standoff with her fears. To leave the stall means that she must rescue herself, but to stay means that maybe one of the family will find for her. Another person eventually comes, and her heart jumps hoping it’s a familiar face. She is sorely disappointed when a creature shaped similarly to the young girl that came earlier appears at the stall door. This one has hair on its face, and is taller than Valensia. When he steps into the stall she balks at the man’s touch, but his gentle murmurs keep her from lashing out at him. He slips something over her head and she finds herself confined to obeying his pressures. She yanks her head around trying to loosen his grasp. When this doesn’t work she resorts to raising her forelegs rocking backwards in a partial rear but quickly he has all four of her legs on the ground once more. Frustrated she refuses to move, until a bottle smelling of milk presents itself to her.

She doesn’t need to think about it, greedily suckling it, the man chuckles pulling it away so that she must follow him out of the stall; all the while murmuring softly to her. At first her fears keep her from listening to him, but the temptation of food proves stronger. It doesn’t take long for her to find herself in a corral with loose sand under her feet. He’s petting her, and talking about… well she can’t really focus on his words very well, so she contents herself with listening to his baritone voice. It reminds her of her father’s and his gentle way of talking to his children. Val sighs heavily lowering her head. She must take the girl up on her offer if she wants to get back to her blissful life.

As soon as the man leaves she begins pressing against the rails finding that there isn’t a single one of them that will give to her small frame. However, the large gap underneath the rails seems just right for a filly to fit through, struggling she bends and scrambles, scraping her belly as she forces her body under the rail to escape. With her back scraped and slightly bruised from the wood the filly nickers in triumph giving a little kick and jump in recognition of her freedom. Taking off at an easy trot Val refuses to think on the implications of her actions. She just hopes that she can make it to the girl. With this thought she bravely forges her way through the meadow.

Taking this route had seemed like the most straight forward solution in her need to get to the forest. What she didn’t expect was the rustle and low growl that can be heard from her left. She stops immediately looking for the wolf. Her ears flick in all directions listening intently for anymore warning. It must be father! He came after all! Her pulse speeds up, and the naïve filly belts out several whinnies in attempt to get his attention. Father’s playing with her in the grasses, stalking her in his wolf form, she’s so sure of it that when she spots the growling beast she begins to trot towards it. That is until it lunges towards her jaws snapping wet with drool. Terror floods her body; burning her muscles until they are forced into action. Turning around AND working up to a gallop take precious seconds that could mean the difference between life or death. With her back already sore from the fence, bolting takes one second to long for her to make a clean escape. Her back hooves dig into the ground prepping to take off when the wolf snags his teeth on her tail. Just before she squeals Val can hear the desperate click of teeth on teeth. Like any other horse would she speeds off in any direction other than the one she had been headed in. The black roan doesn’t take the risk of looking behind her to see if the wolf was following, she just continues her blind bolt until she is well past the meadow, and amongst the trees.

Her ribs expand and collapse with each inhale. Her sides and neck lathered with nervous sweat. No longer are her knees shaking, nor her shoulders burning. Now she is just exhausted and a little sore. Taking a breather couldn’t hurt any. Deciding on whether to do this or not she trudges on, picking her way through brush and trees. Until the sight of a gurgling stream provides her with reason to take a break. She tells herself she will continue the search as soon as… a yawn overtakes her, and her eyes droop in uninvited sleepiness. She loses a few hours between wafting thoughts of how she would get out of this mess. When she wakes its dusk and she is feeling quite rejuvenated. After taking a drink, she pauses to take in the sights around her. But as any story goes, Val finds that she is beyond lost in this strange world; where the wolf isn’t father, horses don’t speak, and sickly creatures rule.

The cool drink is refreshing, her nerves are steeled and she begins to think of a way to the girl. It takes a sharp mind to navigate the forest. She remembers that the girl had pointed in the direction of the sun. It was the way that she had been traveling when the wolf had attacked her, making her lose her way. She had picked up a few survival skills when exploring Beqanna, and randomly searching is never a good idea when lost. Streams always flow through thickets, and she can just see the last rays of sun peeking through the dense canopy. She puffs up at remembering that she would want to walk in the opposite direction of this light since it is no longer late morning and the sun is on the opposite end of the horizon. It takes her a while, in fact there are a few times that she needs to pause and re-orientate herself, it takes longer than she would like, and quickly darkness overcomes the forest. Val worries her lip in nervous habit. She can’t afford to lose track of the stream she’s been following. Then another idea pops into her little fuzzy head. Walking in the stream! It isn’t out of hearing distance yet, so she uses the gurgling water to find her way back to the banks before stepping on the slippery pebbles, and slowly making her way closer to the thicket.

It takes several hours of slipping and faltering numb hooves for Val to reach the thicket, but she does make it. She tries to announce her presence, but with her voice gone all that comes out is a small trumpet. As silent as a cat, the girl from before with the strange and eerie voice steps out of the shadows. This time though thick lashes blink upwards revealing the glowing silver of her iris’, a little spooked the filly clamps her tail taking a few steps back from the child. <i>Now, now no need for all the dramatics</i> rosebud lips part wider than should be natural, in what could only be taken as a malicious smile. That smile revealed shimmering wet teeth that form sharp daggers over a mouth to large for any sweet southern bell, while a forked tongue flicks out over her spread lips. A shudder runs through the filly’s body. What the hell had she gotten herself into?! Daddy wouldn’t be to happy about her language at this moment, but that is something that she can’t think about when starring at the pale girl bathed in the light of the moon.

The strange creature begins to speak once more. The words don’t seem to come from her, but from around her. Even in Beqanna they don’t have things this crazy. <i>You’ve made it my dear, I’ve had my doubts about you. Almost gave up on you deciding to come at all. However, I promised you something, and I’ll give it, but because you dawdled it will not be as pleasant gift as it could have been. </i>Val opens her mouth to speak but before she can bleat anything, the girl’s pupils elongate into slits, and her glowing iris’s spread until there are no whites to be seen. The girl reaches her arms out to the filly, another pair sprouting from her ribs and raising towards the sky. All Valensia can do is gasp as agonizing pain oozes it’s way through her body. Hair pushes out her follicles quickly sprouting a beard on her chin, feathered shag on her stifle’s, shoulders, and fetlocks. Without a break she can feel the piercing of her skin, as a golden spiral split’s her skull open weighing her head down with a new horn. Things don’t end there sadly, the pain seems to last for hours to her, worse than when she had lost her wings, worse than when the wolf turned out to NOT be her father. Her hooves split, cleaving to create two toes on each. Her tail melts, and bone extends wrapping itself in tendons and muscles until it is a unicorn’s tail with long shag growing from the underside and a puff of hair at the end. Finally, the pain slows to a heated throb until it completely dissipates leaving her without injury. Val can’t help but be terrified to look at herself.

The girl however has returned her attention to her own shoes, hands folded once more, and no sign of the terrorizing vision Valensia saw when formed into this hideous unicorn. Once more a shrill cry breaks through her vocals, still no language and no chance to ask the stranger what had been done to her. The girl takes a step back and is quickly swallowed in the shadows leaving no trace that she had ever been there except for the last glowing embers of her silver eyes. Staring at the place the girl had been a dark hole grows beckoning Val to step into it. Part of her is terrified that more pain will be awaiting her, but she wants to get out of this place badly enough to take a step through with closed eyes. She lets the darkness swallow her.
</div><div class="valensia_quote"><br>“And there was you - your fair self,<br>always delicately dressed,<br>with white firm fingers sure of touch <br>in delicate true work. <br>I loved you then.” <br>- Charlotte Gilman</div></div></div></center>
Word Count: exactly 2500
Obsticale #1: Escaping the corral
Obsticale #2: Escaping the wolf
Obsticale #3: Finding her way to the thicket
Traditional unicorn:
https://i.pinimg.com/236x/98/0f/4f/980f4...772cbc.jpg

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