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Wichita




Wichita took a few sips of the river. Like most of the
young horses, he didn't stop to be thankful for the crystal liquid
that tasted fresh from the mountains snow. No, he simply lifted
his thick mug, letting the water run down and join the streaks of
rain that striped his multi-coloured pelt.

The pellets of rain came down on the river, dotting it to a rhythm
that the young horse did not understand, nor had the patience
to care for.

He turned back to the shelter of the trees, picking a large oak to
stand by. He did not look toward the mares, but simply cocked an
ear at them. He listened for the little comfort that came to him in
their voices.

127 words

[fig]

a v e i a;

aveia watched with curiosity as the mare approached.
a million ideas of what she could be coming near her for popped into the mares head.
so she was really quite glad when none of them came true.
instead the mare asked for her name.

for a moment, she considered giving her a fake one.
a backwards version of her name perhaps, or something else.
but instead, true to the goodness that she was, most of the time.
she stated her real name, saying it like it was a gift.
"aveia mortum. and you?"
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93 words
n/a

[epic]

zoet

Zoet stood tall, proud, as the mare spoke to her. She was
slightly surprised that the mare gave her both first and
last names. She pondered this for a quick second and
then, as she said her name she raised her neck higher
and took a small step forward.

I am Zoet.

As she said so the rain pounded even harder on her pelt,
if even possible. The droplets were massive in size and
stung when they reached her coat from the clouds that
hung high in the sky. Zoet still enjoyed the rain, and she
was happier than ever with it's current state. Though Zoet
didn't express this emotion, as she often didn't toward others,
she was very happy, ecstatic even.