06-14-2017, 08:09 PM
She has grown accustomed to the loneliness that has colored her entire life. She has bore witness to kingdoms rising, and falling, and rising again. She has watched as new life has been birthed, grown old, and passed into the next life. She has seen happiness wrenched from the wombs of those who cultivated it, replaced by hatred and anger. She has watched the world, and all it’s inhabitants morph, and change, and grow, and fade…..yet she is ever the same…unchanging. She is the only thing in her entire life that has not evolved. At times it is maddening, at others it is the sole comfort she has in this world. She has been alive, and yet she has never really lived.
She has always been an oddity amongst oddities, though in a much more simple way than per the usual. She is average in every way, though delicate in her build from blood heavy with desert influence. A simple bay pinto horse, with a gentle dish to her head, and a mane and tale that glitters in the sunlight. Aside from her unusual adornments, she is immortal, a gift from a father more steeped in legend than a physical reality. She knows nothing of him, though, and his significance to her existence has dwindled as she’s grown older.
She once again finds herself in the Field, though many things in this land have changed, the Field remains as Katastrophe does, ever unchanged. If she were to quickly glance it would be as a picture from her youth, the same faces and cliques gathered round in heavy discussion. Recruiting, and claiming, and squabbling. But as it is, most of those faces are long since dead, and the faces here today are entirely new to her keen eyes. She cocks a hind leg, and allows her eyes to close and her mind to wander to fitful sleep. This is a game she is all too familiar with, and she knows she will not have to wait too terribly long for a body to approach her, and really, what is time when you’ve got eternity at your fingertips? It is insignificant, at least to Kat. It seems to her, she could sleep a thousand years, and not a thing would be different when she woke.
Her mind drifts, wandering back to days gone by, to children she’d raised, and men she’d only ever lusted for. It brings her back to a bubbling stream, and laughter as she fled a winged man’s possessive embrace. To squeals, and nips, and a heavily rounded middle housing perhaps her most exceptional of accomplishments. She wonders where her son is now, before her dreams take her to darker places.
.
She has always been an oddity amongst oddities, though in a much more simple way than per the usual. She is average in every way, though delicate in her build from blood heavy with desert influence. A simple bay pinto horse, with a gentle dish to her head, and a mane and tale that glitters in the sunlight. Aside from her unusual adornments, she is immortal, a gift from a father more steeped in legend than a physical reality. She knows nothing of him, though, and his significance to her existence has dwindled as she’s grown older.
She once again finds herself in the Field, though many things in this land have changed, the Field remains as Katastrophe does, ever unchanged. If she were to quickly glance it would be as a picture from her youth, the same faces and cliques gathered round in heavy discussion. Recruiting, and claiming, and squabbling. But as it is, most of those faces are long since dead, and the faces here today are entirely new to her keen eyes. She cocks a hind leg, and allows her eyes to close and her mind to wander to fitful sleep. This is a game she is all too familiar with, and she knows she will not have to wait too terribly long for a body to approach her, and really, what is time when you’ve got eternity at your fingertips? It is insignificant, at least to Kat. It seems to her, she could sleep a thousand years, and not a thing would be different when she woke.
Her mind drifts, wandering back to days gone by, to children she’d raised, and men she’d only ever lusted for. It brings her back to a bubbling stream, and laughter as she fled a winged man’s possessive embrace. To squeals, and nips, and a heavily rounded middle housing perhaps her most exceptional of accomplishments. She wonders where her son is now, before her dreams take her to darker places.
.
katastrophe
I could probably say something witty….