Post by ~Eagle~ on Jul 1, 2007 21:40:54 GMT -5
Well, I'm not sure how well this is going to go, but oh well.
Prologue
Dirt. It was in her nostrils, eyes, moth, and ears. Yuck. As she came conscious, the young girl noticed something around her. Nothing. The air whistled loudly in her dusty ears. The sun shone brightly in her misused eyes. Little tornados lit up around her and one caugh her hair. It twisted and pulled, yanking her locks into even more complex tangles. The girl growled once and tried to stand up.
Nothing. She tried and tried. Her legs pushed and heaved and her mind lashed and screamed but to no avail. She had lost the abality to walk. Dang it! She cursed a few curses and pushed her long bangs away from her hazel eyes. The young girl wwas all alone in a desert, with nothing to her left or her right, but the open sky and totally impassive sun. The young girl was nothing extraordinary. Her eyes were shiny hazel, her long hair was dirty blonde. She had the build of a Rider's Daughter. Long limbs, muscular thighs, thin waist, and delicate features all pointed to her being one.
Indeed, what little of her past she could remember was having sight problems and the ability to naturally ride, tame, and talk to an horse she met. Obviously she was a Rider's Daughter. Horses loved her. The came to her, not matter what they had been through, where they were from, or what their job was, they did. And were punished for it as well. Of course, it wasn't her fault. She didn't call them! But the poor girl loved them with all her heart. She talked to them, rode them, healed them and did everything she could to help them. Her last hose was labeled; a nag. She had rescued her, lived with her, and named her Amber, because the mare's real color was bay, but this girl thought her coat was really amber.
But Amber had died, given her life for Camo. Camo had been caught by the guards, stealing food from the market for Amber and herself. She had riden Amber away and in desperation, one of the guards had shot a fatal arrow at Camo. Amber had sensed i t and swerved. But another arrow was losed and this one caught Amber in the chest. The brave mare had continued, and her love prevailed. Camo pleaded with the guard's horses and they spooked from a "tiger". Camo was able to escape. The arrow had pierced several important blood vessels and killed the mare soon after. Camo had cried a million tears. She had stumbled away from the body and walked until she fell.
So here she was. Unable to walk, unable to reach food, unable to find water. She was liable to do only one thing and that was die. But Camo was not a wimp. She pulled herself across the hot sand, determined to get somewhere. Fierce determination kept the young girl going until she collapsed again. Only this time, she wasn't alone. A large shadow approached her. Its rider was carrying a gun.
Prologue
Dirt. It was in her nostrils, eyes, moth, and ears. Yuck. As she came conscious, the young girl noticed something around her. Nothing. The air whistled loudly in her dusty ears. The sun shone brightly in her misused eyes. Little tornados lit up around her and one caugh her hair. It twisted and pulled, yanking her locks into even more complex tangles. The girl growled once and tried to stand up.
Nothing. She tried and tried. Her legs pushed and heaved and her mind lashed and screamed but to no avail. She had lost the abality to walk. Dang it! She cursed a few curses and pushed her long bangs away from her hazel eyes. The young girl wwas all alone in a desert, with nothing to her left or her right, but the open sky and totally impassive sun. The young girl was nothing extraordinary. Her eyes were shiny hazel, her long hair was dirty blonde. She had the build of a Rider's Daughter. Long limbs, muscular thighs, thin waist, and delicate features all pointed to her being one.
Indeed, what little of her past she could remember was having sight problems and the ability to naturally ride, tame, and talk to an horse she met. Obviously she was a Rider's Daughter. Horses loved her. The came to her, not matter what they had been through, where they were from, or what their job was, they did. And were punished for it as well. Of course, it wasn't her fault. She didn't call them! But the poor girl loved them with all her heart. She talked to them, rode them, healed them and did everything she could to help them. Her last hose was labeled; a nag. She had rescued her, lived with her, and named her Amber, because the mare's real color was bay, but this girl thought her coat was really amber.
But Amber had died, given her life for Camo. Camo had been caught by the guards, stealing food from the market for Amber and herself. She had riden Amber away and in desperation, one of the guards had shot a fatal arrow at Camo. Amber had sensed i t and swerved. But another arrow was losed and this one caught Amber in the chest. The brave mare had continued, and her love prevailed. Camo pleaded with the guard's horses and they spooked from a "tiger". Camo was able to escape. The arrow had pierced several important blood vessels and killed the mare soon after. Camo had cried a million tears. She had stumbled away from the body and walked until she fell.
So here she was. Unable to walk, unable to reach food, unable to find water. She was liable to do only one thing and that was die. But Camo was not a wimp. She pulled herself across the hot sand, determined to get somewhere. Fierce determination kept the young girl going until she collapsed again. Only this time, she wasn't alone. A large shadow approached her. Its rider was carrying a gun.
