Post by s o y ღ on Jul 3, 2008 11:36:06 GMT -5
(to Inwe: sorry, I will fix it up all pretty later! May I role play now? =D?)[/blockquote]
Name: Silken Angel (Silk)
Gender: Mare
Age: 5 1/2
Colour: Silvery grey
Height: 14.1, I think. xD
Breed: Arabian
Personality: Well. This is in her story. ... which I will post soon! But I really wanna role play now!
Alliance: {light, neutral, or dark}
History: [m'kay, this took me three days to write... probably would take almost that long to read. xD so you don't have to read it; only if you are utterly confused about what I'm talking about. =33]
Silk’s story started about the same time as Ruben’s. When she was a mere six months old. Of course, this was a year after his story started. She’s only five right now; a year younger than Ruben. Though if you looked at her right now, her tired eyes, her empty spirit, you’d think she was much, much older.
---
Silk wasn’t always wild. Born into captivity by high bloodlines, she was thriving at the stables that she lived at. Expensive, carefully bred, and with a fiery spirit, the Arabian filly was destined to be a champion. Her legs were long and didn’t quite fit her tiny body, but she was happy. So were the owners of the stable, and her trainers. A smart horse, she learned quickly. Silk didn’t quite remember much about this period of age for her. She couldn’t even recall her own mother’s name.
The only thing she could tell you was the feel of the halter on her head, the gentle tug of the lead rope, asking her to go faster. She never really minded wearing a halter. She saw it as an accessory, though at first she was annoyed by it, by the time she left she welcomed it’s comforting, snug grip. Silk could also remember the lunge line, swinging behind her, threatening to whip out and slap her. That had terrified Silk, only a filly of six months, and she didn’t really like it. At all.
The most vivid memory was the one she had when she was barely a year old. It was of her first time wearing a bridle. The bridle had a very different feel than a halter. It wasn’t as kind and forgiving, and the cold metal bit sent her tongue reeling away, her gums frantically moving to try to get it out of her mouth. Of course, none of that actually worked. That was all she remembered of the bridle, the coldness. There was good points, but all she knew was awful coldness. Maybe she was predicting the future there.
Silk’s mother died when she was a year old. Silk could remember that clearly. She was in the stall next to her mom, dozing fitfully in a thunderstorm. There were many thunderstorms where she lived; this one started off no different than the rest. She remembered her mother’s soft voice, calling her to awake…
“Silk? Darling, wake up.” The palomino mare nudged her filly in the next stall. Silk’s eyes fluttered open, drowsily looking at her mom.
“Mmm… yes, mother?” Words were slightly slurred with sleep, the graying filly spoke with the respect she learned to give those older than her.
“Silk, I don’t like this… This storm. It seems different than the rest.” Normally rich and smooth, the palomino’s voice faltered once or twice during the sentence. Silk didn’t really noticed. Her tiny mouth stretched into a yawn, and she nodded her response. “Silk, please, if anything happens… be careful.”
Her mother’s words scared her slightly, and she drifted off to a different corner of her stall where her unfinished hay was. It was only about ten minutes later lightening struck the stable. It sent a jolt through the entire stable, sending a frightened Silk to her knees on the ground. At her mother’s urgent voice, she stood up shakily, looking for the older mare. But she was nowhere to be seen. A burning beam had fallen into both their stalls, more into her mothers. Silk took a few cautious steps toward the fire and saw her mom trapped underneath it. Her face twisted into an expression of pure horror.
“Run Silk, run. Run far…. Run far…” Her mother’s last words. And Silk followed them, leaping over the remains of her stall door, and high-tailing it out. She dodged frantic humans and horses, her little heart pounding faster than her hoof beats as she disappeared into the sleek sheet of rain outside.
Ever since the mare has been deathly afraid of thunderstorms. More of the memories they pull up to the surface than the actual thing, though.
---
Silk just blinked, numb feeling spreading farther over her body, unable to do anything. It felt like she had died and her life was re-playing in front of her eyes. Well, the important parts, at least. Nothing she didn’t need. Her mind skimmed over her struggles to survive in the first three months, choosing the time she had first met Dom. A year and three months old, she was lost and confused and just wanted a place to call home.
Enter FreeDom.
---
Silk had been accepted into the herd easily, not a threat, nothing but a fine addition to it. Run by a strong and handsome stallion, whose son happened to be a colt she’d get to know quite well in a few years. Silk was a thin and straggly looking thing, but beautiful nonetheless. Even at that age she caught stallion’s eyes, making them do a double-take before realizing she was just a filly. Her body had caught up with her legs a little more, making her look more elegant than awkward. She had stayed a few days with them before she ever met Dom.
The colt was a striking pearl and chocolate. This intrigued the filly, making her watch from a distance with a cocked head and interested eyes. The grey managed to gather up the courage to talk to him, but as it turned out, he was the one doing the talking.
She slithered up to him, trying to keep cool. She knew he was the lead’s son, but didn’t really know the importance of being that. Yet.
“Hello!” The colt had been upbeat and happy, introducing himself first. “I’m Dom. I know who you are. You’re Silk.”
She blinked with surprise. Though she was almost a year his senior, he knew quite a lot. “Wha…How?”
“My daddy told me.” Dom said with a smile.
“Oh… ahhh…”
Silk only stayed a few months after that, having an occasional conversation with Dom once in a while, but mainly keeping to herself. After that, she left. Almost two years old, she was a fine young mare and knew how to take care of herself. Things weren’t going to well, complications were coming, so she simply took herself out of the picture. Easier for everyone. No one was really that hard to say goodbye to.
---
Silk blinked as she remembered this, wondering why she hadn’t stayed. It was too late for regret, though. She didn’t even have time. The movie in her head was fast forwarding through the time she had to fend for herself, precisely a year. It stopped when she entered Dreaver.
---
Three years old, Silk was in what she liked to remember her ‘nice’ stage. Innocent and free, she wasn’t quite sure what the difference between light and dark was, and didn’t even know what neutral meant. She’d been a lucky filly, save for her mishap with the thunderstorm, and hadn’t met any darks she could recall. Silk stumbled upon Dreaver by mistake, just tired and going slightly crazy without any equines to talk to.
She was waiting in the claiming grounds, though she didn’t quite know what those were, either. Just relaxing by the shade of a tree when two stallions came into view. Both palominos, one Light and one Neutral, though she wouldn’t find out which was which until later, they were quite a striking sight. Silk edged carefully near them, where they were arguing about something. She wasn’t sure what. But they noticed her.
King, the Neutral one (as she would learn), was polite and inviting. Of course, Ruben was, too. Both handsome, Silk had been awestruck when they both wanted her to come with them. She hadn’t known her looks then. She was just beginning to find out what stallions were, and learn the pleasures they could give her. The nice thrill they made that took her breath away for a few seconds, made her heart skip a few beats. Speechless at first, then helpless. Who to go with? Being the sweet, caring mare she was then, she didn’t want to hurt any feelings.
Silk didn’t exactly remember the conversation she had with them, only remembered following Ruben, the bright palomino. She did remember looking over her shoulder and the other one, King. Silk let a slight shrug lift her shoulders as she turned her gaze forward again.
Easy come, easy go.
---
That was the first time she ever met Ruben, and the last time she met King. Silk sighed, remembering the horses they had once been. If only they could go back to that… If only she could be the angelic horse once more, whose full name fully described her. Silken Angel. Soft, nice, sweet…
Nothing she was now. Stony face was set in an emotionless expression as her mind spun, skipping a few scenes. It began to play where she met her half-sister.
---
Silk had been with Ruben a few months now, and she had developed that tiny crush on him that would grow bigger and bigger with each passing day. She wandered away from the herd for a while, looking for someone else to talk to.
She met the black Arabian, Flame Dancer.
Drinking from the pond, letting the cool water hydrate her, she hadn’t noticed the black mare come up. They had both drunk their fill before either saw the other. Chocolate eyes looked into deep blue ones, trying to figure the other out. Once again, the other horse spoke first. It was almost always like that—at least, in the nice days.
“I’m Flame… who are you?” She was slightly hesitative, and Silk wondered why she hadn’t seen her around more often.
“Silk. Do I… know you?” Careful words were chosen out the long selection in front of her eyes. She knew how to converse with equines much better now than she had a few months ago.
“Umm… I’m not sure… I don’t think so… Maybe?” Flame seemed as uncomfortable as Silk was. Feeling reassured that she wasn’t the only one with this problem, she smiled encouragingly.
“You look familiar… who was your father?” This question was blunt and out of the blue.
“Err… Velvet Flames… why?” The name rung a bell. Silk concentrated hard, ears flickering back and forth before it finally dawned on her.
“That’s my father.” After that, words came easily. They laughed and chatted for a few hours before returning. Silk found out that Flame was neutral, and told her to send her regards to King. Though Silk knew Ruben despised King, the mare felt bad for when she had went with Ruben instead of King. Not that she regretted it—she loved being in Bell Vayle. She didn’t think she’d survive in where he was. Where was it? Some sort of Basin? The name had slipped her mind, and she returned to Bell Vayle happy and with a story to tell.
---
Silk remembered that, and felt a pang when she thought of Flame’s son, Dark. Her mind roared with anger when she tried to bring the most recent memory of him up. It wasn’t time, it said. It would be time soon. In the meantime, her story spun on a wheel, Silk wondering what it’d land on next.
Round and round and round she goes… where she stops, you’ll never know…
Three words of her next memory popped into her head.
Wranglers. Chaos. Dom.
---
She was almost four when the wrangles came. Silk hadn’t known what to do, other than to run with Ruben and the rest of her herd, hoping for safety in numbers. These humans were different than the gentle ones she had known earlier. They carried ropes that stung her tender hide, rode horses that mocked her. Silk hated them.
She was in a pen, separated from the rest of her herd. Some of the mares she knew were being force bred, some by lights, some by neutrals, some by darks. Silk was alone.
Well, almost. There was one stallion near her, though he was owned by humans.
He talked with her, though. But he was the first to speak. Like before.
“Silk?” The two-toned stallion asked carefully, making the silvery mare do a double take. Could it be? Yes, it was. Dom. His body matched his legs now, and he was lean and handsome. Silk felt her pulse speed up, something she hadn’t let a stallion do since Ruben got his mate, Sorrow. Now she was looking at a stallion she had known as a colt, at a loss of words.
“Y-yes?” She stammered, steadied herself, and spoke his name. “Dom?”
They hit it off right away. Love flowers blossomed, and before she knew it Silk was head over heels for the stallion with a feather in his mane, owned by humans. He was strong and handsome and smelled of hay, the sweet scent she once knew. His owner was a man named Harry. Harry, who followed the rules of catching horses to train and sell, naming none and having feelings of sympathy or kindness towards none. Harry, who had allowed himself to get attached to Dom.
Silk had no clue what happened, but soon she and Dom were running side by side, his feather flap-flap-flapping in his mane. Ruben was there somewhere, and a handful of horses whose names she couldn’t tell you for her life. All that she remembered was the exhilaration of it all, galloping so close to the now grown up stallion that their shoulders touched sometimes. She loved him.
---
Silk winced. It was slightly painful to remember what had been, but it was even more painful to think of what could’ve been. And that was what her brain was doing right now, directing her towards the conversation she’d rather not remember.
---
“We’re here Dom, Bell Vayle. We’re safe.” The silver mare’s head was right next to the pearl and oaken one, heartbeat high with adrenaline.
“Yes, what do we want to do now?” He nuzzled her softly, lovingly. Silk sighed and let her eyelids droop closed before returning to favor.
“Anything Dom. We can whatever you want. We have time.” Her heart skipped a beat even as she said this, and Dom knew what she meant.
“You mean… really? If you’re ready.”
“I most certainly am.”
Silk didn’t know where the time had went, but it didn’t end up how they had planned. They were planning for a foal, a beautiful one. Maybe it’d have a chocolate blanket splayed over its back, like its father, or maybe it’d be a shining silvery color like its mother. They never got to find out, though.
---
Silk shook her head, trying to rid herself of these memories. She knew what was coming next. That was her last from the nice days; onto the cruel, unforgiving Silk. She was coming soon…
---
Silk really hadn’t been gone all that long. Only a month… or so. She wasn’t even four years old when she returned to Bell Vayle, to find things… different. First of all, there was a rather depressing hint to the air. And there were few horses left. Friends of Silk’s had wandered away, maybe even died. She couldn’t be sure. But the largest impact that hit her; knocked the wind out of her and refused to let her breath again; was Dom.
She inhaled until she hyperventilated, trying to smell him. Yet, she couldn’t. His scent was old, worn out.
He wasn’t the only one that left, though. The palomino stallion was no more. Instead, Silk waited impatiently at the claiming grounds for the new King of Bell Vayle to take her away.
He was a tall, thick, large-footed and a sleek ebony color. Silk would’ve thought him handsome, but he just wasn’t the shorter, thinner palomino. His name was Comanche.
“You’re not Ruben.” The first words out of the mare’s mouth were cruel, harsh, unforgiving, and unfamiliar in her voice.
“No, but I am Comanche.” He was confident, proud, even though slightly tired. Silk was immediately angered. A strange feeling swelled inside of her. Hatred; she would come to know. The pure hatred she’d know so well in the next year.
“You’ll never take his place.” Her eyes were covered by a veil of silvery forelock, though her icy glare bore through it into Comanche.
Things didn’t go so well from there.
---
Silk grimaced, knowing what was next. She didn’t want to relive this event. It was awful; one of the worst mistakes of her life. She shuddered; her pelt giving way to a tremor of shivers.
---
Silk was weary and tired and again went half a year without the company of another horse. Her body was weak, but her spirit was fiery. Its flame had dulled a bit, but when she walked into that land, far, far away, she smelled him. The flame roared back to life, the mare giving a little jump as she realized who was here.
But why wasn’t he back at Bell Vayle, tending to the pathetic herd that she had left?
Maybe they were all gone.
“Comanche.”
“Silk… Long time no see.” He was still pretty proud. Though a little worse for the wear, he was still tall and handsome.
They made idle chat, catching up a bit when She came. Lady Amber. If it wasn’t for that freaking mare, maybe her life wouldn’t have flipped upside down, sending her tumbling into oblivion.
Lady Amber was trying to flirt with Comanche. Trying; but not necessarily succeeding. Silk’s jealousy kicked in full effect then, and the angry mare’s mouth opened. She didn’t know what she was saying, it was just happening. Fake-sweet words flowed oddly out.
“Hello, Lady Amber. I’m Star, and this is Comanche, my mate. We’re deeply in love, and were just looking for the breeding grounds; could you tell us where they are?”
Comanche was so taken aback that he could only stammer an agreement in response, blinking rapidly with surprise as this mare that he knew so little proclaimed her strong love for him.
Silk’s mother had taught her not to lie, but she did it anyway. Her dead mother, whose name slipped her mind. How was Silk supposed to listen to that advice? How was she supposed to know Dom was right there, listening to her every word?
She smelled him, but it was too late. The hurt stallion was standing there, broken, staring with betrayed eyes. His whole body gave off the vibe rejected. Silk couldn’t say anything, only stood there, mouth open, unable to speak.
He eventually turned around and left.
---
“No…” She didn’t know she was saying it. Her low moan sounded across the empty terrain. There had been horses here earlier… where had they gone?
---
Ruben was just beyond the bushes. He wasn’t the Ruben she had known earlier, though. His beautiful golden coat had lost its sheen and was littered with an array of scars and badly scathed. His eyes seemed slightly dead, but he still Ruben. Silk had a feeling she wasn’t as beautiful and pure as she had once been, either.
“Oh, Ruben, what has the world done to do you?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Silk.”
A dry grin found its way on Silk’s face, and the conversation went on easily. Until Raven came, at least. Raven. Flo’s daughter. Flo. The mare she might’ve been friends with… at some point…
"I'm Star." Eyes not betraying her with feelings, making her smile just a bit creepier than it had to be. "And Ruben and I; well, we've been deeply in love for the past few months. We were just looking for the breeding grounds; we heard it's in season. Do you happen to know where they are?"
Ruben had a lot to say to that. With a few profanities strung in here and there, the last sentence pretty much summed it up.
“You’ve already broken one stallion’s heart with that crap. Please don’t try it on me.”
That hit a nerve.
Silk had some swearing to say, too. Of course, that part is best left unsaid. She ended with yelling at the top of her lungs whatever popped into her mind, and it went a little bit like this.
“Just when everyone needed you, you went and ran off, leaving another stallion in your place! I don't see myself as the selfish one here!”
Even as she was talking, her mind began to whir. She knew this was mean, and she wanted Ruben to be her friend. Proud as she was, it was hard for her to say sorry, to tell him that she didn’t mean that. Pride interfered with common sense and good judgment, and she hesitated. The words danced on her tongue, willing her to say them.
“Sorry.” Silk turned and walked away, head down, full of shame. She left in bad graces, but at least Ruben would know she hadn’t fully meant what she said.
“Me too.” She could hear his reply, but no hoof beats behind her. That’s okay; she really didn’t feel like being chased.
---
There was only one strong memory left. It was the most recent one, the one where she made a fool of herself the most. She shook her head uselessly, then decided it’d be best just to wait this one out. They were almost there… almost done…
---
Silk was half asleep. It was night, and she was by the shipwreck.
Dom wouldn’t even look at her. His back was turned, and he only had eyes for Harry. Though jealousy was strong in her, her heart beat felt lonely by itself. She moved forward, basically mumbling nonsense in her drowsy state. Words were slurred and uneven, some of them unable to make out.
Even so, she knew Dom heard her. And understood her. He just wasn’t replying; wasn’t showing the signs she needed to see.
Silk didn’t know how hurt she was until Harry turned and left. He was walking away slowly, and Silk was waiting patiently for Dom to turn around and let her explain. But he didn’t. He chased after Harry.
He. Followed. Harry.
Dom. Left. Silk. For. A. Human.
The. Stallion. Left. The. Mare. For. The. Human.
The. Prince. Chose. The. Dragon. Over. The. Princess.
She could only think choppily; for that’s how her breath was. Choppy and uneven, scared and hurt. Shocked, saddened, angered, numb, you name it, she felt it. Silk uttered a desperate sound, stood frozen for a moment, then turned and fled. She ran without feeling, finally breaking down and falling, the shipwreck still in sight. But the towering ship was only visible over the tops of trees; the tragic events were far behind her. A series of shivers took over her tight pelt. She let her knees collapse, and she fell to the ground. The sunrise was peeking over the horizon, a display of pinks and reds and yellows lighting up the sky.
She had pulled an all-nighter, and was exhausted. Silk was numb, no emotion could be seen or felt in her beautiful body. She let her eyelids close and gave herself up to sleep, remembering sleeping next to her mother. A sigh fell from her lips as she drifted off into dreamland, where it was a perfect world, where nothing was wrong.
---
Silk’s memories vanished then, leaving her nothing but empty pain. She was incredibly angry at Dom for making her feel this way, most of her never wanting to speak to him again, but the rest was… different. The rest longed for his handsome body, an ivory blanked resting snuggly over his chocolate coat, to be by her. To comfort her and dry her tears. She craved him. He was like candy. Awful for you, but you want it anyway. Even if its hurt you, given you cavities and caused you to go to the dentist. Your mouth hurts, you know what caused the cavity, but the second you’re offered candy you take it.
Silk sighed, picked herself up and walked on. Anger was vibrating through her, but it wasn’t large and she wasn’t fired up by it. Instead, it made her weary, made her wonder what awful stunt she’d pull next.
Picture:
"Dead as the Night"
I see past the emptiness, as far as it can go
Dead inside, standing alone
One of young, she's gone
Forever gone from my life
I'll never see her eyes
Run away, but it still follows
Like some wicked wraith
Trapped in it, I have become
comfortably numb
Frozen and waiting
Wonderment come
wonderment gone
Ponder I shall not on what dwells behind me
Ready to rip me apart
The sweet loving angel, was twisted
into anger's slave, hatred's pet
Forever bound
I leave and come back, but you are gone
Some forgotten ghost on the winds
without a single good-bye
Makes me wonder if you had ever even loved me
Shattered shards of something that beats no longer
Found everywhere in bloody heaps
Looks can be decieving
When will you ever learn?
You came back only to step on the shattered shards
and leave me again
Say what you will
I will walk past that void
Your time has passed
Burning hatred lights my way,
a choice, not an echo
Shattered pieces turned to ash
I am no more
Cold and gone,
comfortably numb
All because of you
--by Sterben of Wayward-
lovemeforever
