what does it sound like

L E T H A If the real thing don't do the trick You better make up something quick She stood with her head down low, legs splayed to keep herself balanced and to keep herself stationary. Sweat darkened her already ashy coat, the beads running down her face and spraying from flaring, overworking nostrils easily displayed the evidence of a struggle. Letha's life here in the Rift had been nothing but a struggle. Months had gone by without her seeing her parents, her siblings, or more importantly Makai. Her companion was ripped from her mind, from her soul, the moment her hooves touched this god-forsaken terrain. Letha endured months of psychological terror--she lost her family, her companion, her home; she gained something she never had--hearing. It was still terrifying. She still did not know how to communicate well. All living creatures she encountered from her entrance to the rift to her return to the portal have tried to kill her--no one wanted to talk. They only wanted to eat. Her once pristine, gold-touched coat was now littered with the nicks and marks and scars evident of living a life of a wildling. Ocean blue eyes were wide and wild--resembling all too clearly the reflection of her grandparents. All that kept her alive was the blood that ran through her veins--Ktulu the Constrictor and Gaucho the Wildfire. A snap of a twig in the distance made her ears pin, and she snorted. I am done running, she thought as her narrowing blue eyes dared whatever made noise to step before her.