Lost and Lovedrunk
Classic Champagne Leopard Blanket Knabstrupper sport horse
Potential show jumper with great lines, and pretty to boot
Dark GiftsYear 756 of the New AgeDark Gifts by AK-Outstanding
Blackwood, near Widow's Hollow
Featuring Aneira and Adriana
The little black doe’s mind was slightly fuzzy when she awoke that day. She kept feeling like things were moving at the edges of her vision, as though there was some part of the world that was trying to tease her just like she teased the bigger fawnlings and she wasn’t having it. Her sister hadn’t woken up yet so she wasn’t just grouchy as an ice bear with a thorn in its butt - she was grouchy as an ice bear with a thorn in its butt and bored as a magpie with nothing to steal.
She liked that thought - bored as a magpie with nothing to steal - so at least she could feel a bit clever while she stalked about the clearing she and Drina had been sleeping in. Alannis was off somewhere - again - neglecting her duty to the perfectly black pair. Pro
The Mighty Fox HunterThe Mighty Fox Hunter by Crimson-Forest-Farm
La’Neiya and Urs the Bear
Early Spring, year 759 of the New Age
Oakfern, various caverns
La'Neiya Word Count: 780
Urs Word Count: 1,020
“Urs! Urs!” the young filly was charging through the tunnels towards the Moonpool, shouting at the top of her voice for her friend. He was normally around the Moonpool this time of day, so she hadn’t even considered that he might not be - and she had something to show him.
Barrelling out into the moonlight cavern, she barely even glanced around before she saw his big bay figure.
“Urs! Urs, look! Talla helped me change my paint, look I’ve got stripes!” she squealed, spinning around for him to see. “Like a proper guard!”
She couldn’t contain her excitement, and just barely managed
When Aneira woke, it was dark.
This wasn’t normal darkness. Something about it was shivery cold, something about it smelt wrong… the filly didn’t bother to wonder how the dark could possibly have a scent, but somehow it did. Her sister, her patient and quiet sister, did not feel it - Adriana was still curled up with her tail over her nose, in the kind of deep dark sleep that you didn’t want waking from; Neira didn’t even bother to try to nuzzle her awake. This was somehow not for Adriana, in a way that nothing had ever been before; this was for Aneira alone.
Alannis wasn’t here; that wasn’t unusual, but something about the deep cold blackness that somehow felt like it belonged to her and Aneira was intrigued. Silent and slow, she rose to her feet and began to walk.
She didn’t know exactly what was leading her on; the darkness changed as she moved, but it seemed to be dragging her first one way and then another, and the smell - that awful smell, the smell that somehow made her think of the mother she had never known - pulled her forwards. It didn’t pull her far. There was a clearing, not far from the very place that they had been bedded down in the forest’s dark sanctuary, and at its centre, there: Alannis, staring blankly forwards, her limbs as still as the black pines around her. And there, at her feet, shining white: bones. A skull, a tiny skull, the size for a newborn….
Neira’s eyes were dragged up from the bones to the point of her caretaker’s gaze, to where the cold wrong blackness was at its deepest, to the place where the smell of… of death, she realised now, seeing the bones and feeling the nearness of her mother and seeing the strange, strange stillness of a doe normally so full of movement and anger… this was death. This was a place of death.
Yet Aneira could not move, did not want to move; she was here, it was wrong and the dark was terrible; but it was both dead and alive, she could feel it now for the magic that it was. magic that crossed the barrier between life and death and dragged back whatever Alannis sought, brought back the spirit that had cloaked the shining, perfectly white little skull that now lay at the dark doe’s hooves. It was intoxicating; it was like discovering her illusions all over again. Her heart was racing and she was quivering all over, her whole body thrumming with the toxic music of the beyond as Alannis cast her spell and without thinking the filly found herself reaching out, touching at the spell and pushing at it, pulling back whatever Alannis had been seeking!
And there it was. It - no, not it, he, she knew that as surely as she knew her twin - stood where the pristine bones should have been standing, his belly rippling red from his deathwound and he was so pale. He was translucent, but all the same Aneira could see that his hide had been a creamy gold and his eyes had almost glowed with green and she knew. This was the son Alannis had left the wolves; the gore that oozed from his stomach was what they had taken from him, and Alannis had brought him back.
Not just Alannis, but Aneira too; Aneira had pushed through that veil and pulled this awful, beautiful monstrosity back through, to a place where he did not belong... and the creature knew. He knew that he was not of this world, and he knew that it was not simply his mother who had brought him back here; he could feel Aneira’s magic just as Aneira could feel who he was and he screamed.
The scream was the world cracking apart like an egg; whatever had been before, the cold blackness, the scent of death - all was broken, all was wrong and in a moment of sudden terror Aneira felt her grip on the magic, her feeling for death flee from her like a paleface from wolves - and slowly, so slowly it was as though she were trapped in that world beyond the veil, Alannis turned.
“Who does this?”
The doe’s voice was a hiss so cold it almost cut through the dead colt’s scream; almost… the scream was everything, the scream was the clearing and the trees and the Blackwood and the world; the scream filled Aneira’s mind and soul as the tortured spirit clung to the magic his mother offered; clung to what little magic was there as the doe threw back her head and roared a challenge to the sky; it grasped and screamed and twisted and turned as the magic was fading, the power was waning! There was grey in the black, the cold touch of death was heated by fury, the magic was broken… the scream ended.
The ghost was gone.
Alannis, her bulky frame shaking with rage and grief, unsightly tears flooding down her ugly face, swung round, her nostrils flaring as she sought the source of her son’s unsightly pain.
“WHO DID THIS?!”
It was a bellow of pure grief, driven by rage and Aneira stood frozen with… with what? She realised, as Alannis swung and howled like a wounded stag, that she did not fear this thing; she did not fear the doe who mourned a paleface son so greatly they had to summon his spirit. She did not fear Alannis and now she knew her secret she had power over the fool!
And suddenly she was laughing, a shrill, excited laugh as she charged forwards, dragging the shadows with her as she ran, skidding beneath the rearing doe’s hooves and snatching at the ground, snatching at the most precious thing the stupid creature had in her world and then she was running, running into the sweet darkness of the Blackwod with her head held high and the tiny, claw-grazed rib of a tiny, monstrous, paleface fawn clamped, delighted, between her teeth.