10-08-2018, 12:51 AM
Trapped
Trapped
Trapped
How long had she been here? Living a twilight life on the fringes of the trees and the dark. The wolf keeping her under lock and key in her own mind. There had been something terrible, something tragic and the trees were aflame. There had been a filly, a girl to protect. Love and loss and all while she was stuck. The wolf made sure of that. The wolf had kept her safe during the fall of the Taiga. He had led her on soft paws through ash and smoke. Always one step ahead of the creatures sent from a vengeful god to make them pay for their hubris.
There were so many others that she had seen come and go from behind canid eyes. So much blood, and now so much dust. Her hooves tread soft and silent on the loam and needles that never quite leave the Taiga floor. Her horns tangle in the branches of new growth and catch on low hanging branches as she twines among trees. It's quiet here. Quiet and lonely. When she closes her eyes she still sees the pelts of the winter wolf she left behind and the glass boy she should have saved. Ears prick to the sound of bird call and the whispers of the predator inside her, but neither drowns out the sound of snapping glass and tearing paper. Her heart aches like the Taiga aches.
No matter how she tries she can't leave the trees, so she wanders and she waits. Soon someone will find the gunmetal mare with stars in her eyes and a wolf in her heart.
So she waits, trapped in the woods, waiting for someone to save her.
Trapped
Trapped
How long had she been here? Living a twilight life on the fringes of the trees and the dark. The wolf keeping her under lock and key in her own mind. There had been something terrible, something tragic and the trees were aflame. There had been a filly, a girl to protect. Love and loss and all while she was stuck. The wolf made sure of that. The wolf had kept her safe during the fall of the Taiga. He had led her on soft paws through ash and smoke. Always one step ahead of the creatures sent from a vengeful god to make them pay for their hubris.
There were so many others that she had seen come and go from behind canid eyes. So much blood, and now so much dust. Her hooves tread soft and silent on the loam and needles that never quite leave the Taiga floor. Her horns tangle in the branches of new growth and catch on low hanging branches as she twines among trees. It's quiet here. Quiet and lonely. When she closes her eyes she still sees the pelts of the winter wolf she left behind and the glass boy she should have saved. Ears prick to the sound of bird call and the whispers of the predator inside her, but neither drowns out the sound of snapping glass and tearing paper. Her heart aches like the Taiga aches.
No matter how she tries she can't leave the trees, so she wanders and she waits. Soon someone will find the gunmetal mare with stars in her eyes and a wolf in her heart.
So she waits, trapped in the woods, waiting for someone to save her.