v-Fantascape-v

Glistening. Shimmering. The soft morning rays gently swept over the scape, touching everything with a warmth that could only be exemplified as a dam’s soft breath against a newborn’s neck after a chilly night. Where soft blooms once reached towards the sun’s ghosting touch in their peak of life was now the sight of soft powdered white. Both old and new, as soft speckled individual snowflecks danced upon the air, each individual taking their own preferred path as they slowly twirled and swirled down to the ground below. It truly was a sight to behold, and one that had the classic champagne coming to a temporary halt within his tracks. Dark olive colored eyes lifted with the great skull of the band stallion as Ezra took in the sights of speckled snow dancing about. Even after witnessing many a winter and being no stranger to the cruelty of such a season, he still found himself in soft awe at the beauty of such moments. It was almost a calm before the storm, a sentiment that everything

"-Yeah, I got that, kid, but I'm just saying –" "Stop calling me a 'kid', I am not a 'kid'. I'm a full fledged weanling, and besides, the name is Hak, not 'kid'." "Yeesh, okay, Hak. Point is, you really should have thought your plan out more thoroughly, and, you know, maybe not run like a little possessed banshee into the mists of a herd?" The stallion gave the youngster a pointed look, but it was one that went unnoticed, or rather, ignored by the leopard colt. He had already told this stallion over and over what he had been doing, and at this point, Hak was convinced the guy had bark for brains. So instead of trying to tell him again, Hak simply busied himself with looking over an ant trail, his little eyes watching as each individual marched along. His mother didn't like ants, said they bit too much, but Hak loved them. They all had a role to play in their family, just like mom, and him in theirs'. Just like that stallion who had almost crushed Hak before, and those mares that had

Really, he knew better. He really did. He had no excuses, no alibis. His mother had made sure to drill any sort of things out of him, and make it clear she would not endure such nonsense. And that would exactly be what she would call it. Nonsense. Foolishness. It probably was, to be honest. Just because he had grown up in their solitary lifestyle didn't mean he knew how to handle himself if a sticky situation arose, even if his mother had been firm on telling him how to handle such. Learning by ear was far different than learning by experience. Haakon knew that, and yet, he trekked still onward with his little expedition, the earnest sounds of birds almost beckoning him forward. It was early morning, and the little leopard appaloosa colt had snuck away while his mother still slept. He didn't mean to deceive his mother. He knew she would not be pleased with his act of defiance, but he just had to do this. Since he could wobble upon his legs, his mother had shunned him from other horses

It was quiet. A bit too quiet. Even for someone born to a herd that had enjoyed the quiet, living among the tall trees and guarded by one so fierce, you'd think she would be at home in the forest. But alas, even Malina knew when it was time to get going. Flicking ear tail, the young spotted grullo took off at a trot, eager to put as much distance between herself and the woods. An endeavor that didn't take too much time to do. The sight of the light breaking ahead into nothing but clear dau spurring Mal on, and she almost got there, only to stop as a sound caught her attention. Pausing with one front hoof raised, the young mare glanced around, ear at the alert to see where it had came from. Silence. Just as Malina was prepared to write it off as nothing more than her imagination, she heard it again, and turning around, the mare finally caught sight of the source of the noise. A pile of leaves rustled relentlessly, and as the mare watched, she caught sight of something long slip out

The dull sound of hoofsteps was the only thing that filled the otherwise silent trek of the stallion’s slow plodding. Despite it being midday, the heavily dense forest he had chosen to trek through offered no other sounds. If he had been in any other mood, he may have questioned the silence, but right now, the blue roan relished in it. Or so he wanted to believe he did. The quiet was no longer a thing the serpent was used to. Traveling alone, it felt… Alien. For a moment, his mind traversed back to the one responsible for his lack of enjoying his recently granted solitude. But it was only for a split second before the large blue roan forced his mind elsewhere. It was best not to think of such. It was easier if he just focused on the route ahead. He didn't need to get sidetracked. No more distractions, it was time to focus on his new objective. Find himself some mares to start a damn herd and let the memory of that individual fade. It had been a complete waste of time. But he

The valley was green. It was yellow. It was pink. It was orange. It was a range of colors that expanded in ways that could only boggle the mind of a young individual, and boggle her mind it did and all the little filly could do as her legs bounded and leapt over the strands of grass was laugh and giggle the whole way. Even as her spindly legs intertwined and sent her toppling face forward towards the ground. The soft sprouts, though, softened her descent and as soon as she disappeared in the bright colors of the Meadow, the bright white head of the filly sprung back up, her short and spiky black mane sticking about while it was adorned with grass and petals only adding to the visible representation of the spirited little filly. Emilia giggled, paused, then giggled again as she glanced around. The herd was just a faint blurry line in the distance, but the fact of the adults being so far away did little to discouraged the spirited child. Instead, Emma felt free. Her mother was a good

Samuel had to practically resist the urge to let out a low groan as the cool, sweet liquid washed over his body and tongue. In the moments following his defeat, he had figured that he couldn't have hurt anymore. Boy had he been wrong, for when the adrenaline had finally settled, did the real pain begin. And that had been the exact reason he had excused himself from his bachelor buddies– who were too busy buzzing about the sparring pit results– and allowed himself to come down to the water's edge. With no other bachelors of higher stature than him around, the youngster had taken the chance to submerge himself in the water before promptly flopping on his side, the liquid gently trickling over and around his form. He had also taken this opportunity to take a few lazy drinks, careful to avoid the tainted currents the mud from his form was intertwining with. A few long drinks in, and Sam found himself glancing over to the other side of the river. Where the hills slowly rose about before

Sweat drops splattered the ground, Dirt and mud flipped through the air, The sound of squeals, The sound of thrills, The sound of wills. But no amount of willpower would be enough. Not for the golden stallion against a foe much bigger than himself. Samuel could have had all the determination within him, and he still wouldn't have been able to defeat the burly red roan bachelor. All it took was the sensation of a mouth on his crest and the feeling of larger, stocker legs taking out his own, spindly ones and he was down for the count. The three year old buckskin's yell of indignation was lost as he took a face full of mud and was left struggling back to his hooves. Around him, the crowd of watching bachelors roared in triumph at their champion and Samuel had to resist the urge to let his burned ego show as he slowly moved from the mud pit and up to join the crowd. Several bachelors shifted aside to let him past, and a few even tried to sooth his ruined ego. Saying it was only