Post by timeless on Jul 3, 2007 12:53:29 GMT -5
The land was just as it said. Every living being in the grand valley was a proud and spiteful being. They pushed each other for room, each striving to be brighter and bigger than the others, sweeter even, in the case of the fruits. The little rodents and birds fought for the biggest territory, unknowing that a new creature was about to take a throne over them all. They chattered and they fought, pecking, scratching, biting over land that would soon be lost again. Then a harsh, laughing voice commanded they attention, pushing against their poor eyes until they forced their eyes onto the newest foreigner.
"I am the best, and now I take the throne, my chicas and chicos."
The throaty, showy voice wrapped itself around every animal's ears, commanding the respect from every competing plant. There would be rebellions under her hoof. Attention showered her and made her large black eyes cruel, her mouth set in a melancholy grin. She towered above everything except the trees that would soon bow to her. Her hide was wrapped in layers of big, messily assembled muscle that was delicately sprayed with fur of a bright bay color. Her curly and thick mane twirled on her neck, writhing and sagging, her ruffled forelock laid right between her big black eyes, from which snaked a white stripe that trickled down the center of her face to her slightly Roman nose. Her hooves were the size of relatively small dinner plates, twice the size of that of the speedy thoroughbreds, her white feather hiding most it. Her tail was short and black and hung limply from her rump.
Oh, she would be bullied no longer. No more scapegoat, no more beatings, no more blaming her; now she was in charge, and she would get her right respect that she demanded. It didn't matter if one or alot were hurt; her wrath would be inflicted upon any who dared challenged her to take away this proud valley she burned with. A valley called Superbia. She would allow no one to undermine her ego; she would dare them all and see who would come forth to take it, like a fool. Her eyes flashed as she wondered what kind of punishment she would serve.
She pawed earth with a giant draft hoof then threw back her head, her curly mane knocked against itself, her forelock pulled away from her face. Her great mouth opened to reveal her claiming call. Her small ears pricked to seek out the echoes and ring from it as all the others watched. They chattered angrily, but she didn't care; she was not a leader, and Queen of Superbia she would stay. Let those c.ocky Friesian or Arabian stallions come after her; she would crush their fragile little bodies as easily as she could stay proud.
She was superb; she was the best, and no one would ever convince her otherwise.
"I am the best, and now I take the throne, my chicas and chicos."
The throaty, showy voice wrapped itself around every animal's ears, commanding the respect from every competing plant. There would be rebellions under her hoof. Attention showered her and made her large black eyes cruel, her mouth set in a melancholy grin. She towered above everything except the trees that would soon bow to her. Her hide was wrapped in layers of big, messily assembled muscle that was delicately sprayed with fur of a bright bay color. Her curly and thick mane twirled on her neck, writhing and sagging, her ruffled forelock laid right between her big black eyes, from which snaked a white stripe that trickled down the center of her face to her slightly Roman nose. Her hooves were the size of relatively small dinner plates, twice the size of that of the speedy thoroughbreds, her white feather hiding most it. Her tail was short and black and hung limply from her rump.
Oh, she would be bullied no longer. No more scapegoat, no more beatings, no more blaming her; now she was in charge, and she would get her right respect that she demanded. It didn't matter if one or alot were hurt; her wrath would be inflicted upon any who dared challenged her to take away this proud valley she burned with. A valley called Superbia. She would allow no one to undermine her ego; she would dare them all and see who would come forth to take it, like a fool. Her eyes flashed as she wondered what kind of punishment she would serve.
She pawed earth with a giant draft hoof then threw back her head, her curly mane knocked against itself, her forelock pulled away from her face. Her great mouth opened to reveal her claiming call. Her small ears pricked to seek out the echoes and ring from it as all the others watched. They chattered angrily, but she didn't care; she was not a leader, and Queen of Superbia she would stay. Let those c.ocky Friesian or Arabian stallions come after her; she would crush their fragile little bodies as easily as she could stay proud.
She was superb; she was the best, and no one would ever convince her otherwise.
