The Portal
08-17-2017, 11:47 PM
Wide, terrified doe eyes scanned the foreign land that sprawled before her. Shaky legs carried her forward. Cocheta had no idea where she was, and the scent of danger was in the air. Her pristine white knees shook. Her elegant hair was full of burrs from traveling so far. My prince will come.... she thought. He will come. Maybe her brain was a bit feverish from dehydration. Or maybe it was fear. Fear does strange things to the mind.
The scent of it lay heavy on her shimmering pink pelt. She twitched uncontrollably, her petite dished nostrils flared to catch every terrifying alien scent. Twigs snapped, thumps sounded- and with every tiny noise she jumped and spooked and leaped sideways. She was sweating heavily. Rivulets of the salty stuff running down her flanks, foam dripped down between her legs.
This was fear sweat.
The dainty filly heard a noise behind her. Without daring to look what it was, she bolted. Years of adapting to vast plains had sculpted her body for running. She dashed through the forest - it had to be a great beast, fangs five feet long, a wicked whipping tail, claws ready to scoop out her eyes and lob them down it's gullet. She pushed faster, the imaginary beast still after her. Her nose started to bleed and her lungs burned.
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye she miscalculated the height of a fallen tree and caught both knees square on. She flipped over violently, crashing through the underbrush. She could pick out moments in time while she fell. Bleak, colorless, looming sky; Flashes of green ferns, yellow flowers and insects swarming; dirty brown dirt and earth..
She fell for an eternity, hitting the ground time and time again. She had fallen down a steep embankment, face first, somersaulting over and over.... It's a wonder her delicate neck didn't snap. She found herself lying in a heap at the bottom of the bank, bruised, bleeding, muddy and hurt. She cried then. The fragile wailing of a child. Her brain knew that this was dangerous, but she couldn't stop. She mewled and howled like a dying animal. I'm going to die here. The words rang through her head like she had just been shot.
The scent of it lay heavy on her shimmering pink pelt. She twitched uncontrollably, her petite dished nostrils flared to catch every terrifying alien scent. Twigs snapped, thumps sounded- and with every tiny noise she jumped and spooked and leaped sideways. She was sweating heavily. Rivulets of the salty stuff running down her flanks, foam dripped down between her legs.
This was fear sweat.
The dainty filly heard a noise behind her. Without daring to look what it was, she bolted. Years of adapting to vast plains had sculpted her body for running. She dashed through the forest - it had to be a great beast, fangs five feet long, a wicked whipping tail, claws ready to scoop out her eyes and lob them down it's gullet. She pushed faster, the imaginary beast still after her. Her nose started to bleed and her lungs burned.
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye she miscalculated the height of a fallen tree and caught both knees square on. She flipped over violently, crashing through the underbrush. She could pick out moments in time while she fell. Bleak, colorless, looming sky; Flashes of green ferns, yellow flowers and insects swarming; dirty brown dirt and earth..
She fell for an eternity, hitting the ground time and time again. She had fallen down a steep embankment, face first, somersaulting over and over.... It's a wonder her delicate neck didn't snap. She found herself lying in a heap at the bottom of the bank, bruised, bleeding, muddy and hurt. She cried then. The fragile wailing of a child. Her brain knew that this was dangerous, but she couldn't stop. She mewled and howled like a dying animal. I'm going to die here. The words rang through her head like she had just been shot.
