Don't look down [Open]

[chemicalantics]

It was not the great height that appealed to Mesperyian, it was not the possibility of death. It was nothing more than her fears, it was her hate. No matter how little that her mother had told her as a young filly, whenever they would pass by this place, she knew. It was written in the glance that only held agony, in the gait that suddenly slowed with heavy despair, in the hung head of a guilty mare for her thoughts; it was the place that Mesperyian had been conceived. Everything that the young filly had ever needed to know was in her mothers very step. The small Arabian mare, her head low to the ground with the shame that a thought of 'why had it been me? Why did I have this child?'. It was clear in the look that the weary dame gave to the rocky cliffs, she resented the place, or maybe she hated her filla. Why hadn't she just flung herself off from the height? Kill her and the growing monster in her belly. It would have saved Mesperyian quite a lot of pain. But no, her mother was as headstrong as they came and to her dismay, her little foal also carried that trait. She felt herself begin to feel worse, to hate it all. She closed her eyes and shook the thoughts away. Opening them once more to look at the land before her. A few horses wandered, she felt like she could see them all, or maybe she was a giant; now with one step she could crush them all. She shook out her onyx mane, it was beginning to get matted. Not like it mattered though, no stallion liked her, or would like her; she didn't want them to anyway. She was a massive creature, about 16 or so hands tall, a deep dark bay with more friesian blood than Arabian; creating the most masculine looking mare, in her opinion. She stayed still, becoming a sentry over the dry world before her. Imagining what it would be like to have this land as her own, to be a leader. How could she? She was no leader, she wasn't that kind of mare. She would never want to be a leader. It was just the possibility that was so tantalizing to her. She shifted her weight slightly, powerful muscles in her legs visibly sliding against one another to continue holding such a still form. She closed her eyes again, and thought, went back to that place again; a place that she missed but had never even been, a dream. It was green, beautiful, warm. All her summers had been spent in the brown and white of the north, every winter in the orange and brown of the weaklands. But she knew what the south looked like. An ocean that was more vast than the horizon, fields of green with flowers, beautiful lakes and rivers and forests. There was no pain there, no suffering, or hatred. At least not to her knowledge, and she did not want to learn if there was or not, she wanted her belief to try to hold on to. She drifted in this place, letting herself wander and be free from the heat of the hell that was the spot she stood. She'd known real freedom but at least she could dream.