belonging.

[Guest]

Her nostrils flared as she stood, she was young and independent.Staring just daring someone or something to come and challenge her. Her muscles rippled in pleasure as the warm sun shot down on her back. She didn't care that she was a female. Oh no that made no difference at all, she was a strong arabian mare. She looked dainty and had a perfectly sculpted dished face with large gentle brown eyes. She has a light dappled grey coat and a black mane that did whatever it pleased. She was called Mirri. She was a lone horse hardly anyone knew about her existence. Quite frankly she didn't want them too. Suddenly a young stallion trumpeted his arrival in the valley. Then she saw him galloping a bay stallion only young. He was looking for a mare, any mare. His name was strong and simple. Striker. He stopped and looked at her, then snorted as if to say come on lets go. He arched his powerful neck and took a step closer and another one and another one. Mirri was getting panicked she stepped back and again and again but he kept coming. In fear and desperation she whirled around and started cantering, she looked back and saw him galloping toward her, she was galloping now up a steep rocky hill. She dodged the sharp grey rocks and kept going. She heard the pounding of his strong hoofs never missing a beat, the rhythmic snorts. She risked a glance back again and saw his wild black mane streaming out behind him, his tail high, he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her hoof on her frog and fell down violently and breathing rapidly. She looked at her hoof and saw 2 large sharp rocks in her frog. Striker stopped short of crushing her and touched his nose to hers. She pulled back, still exhausted from the chase. He put his ears forward and touched his nose to hers once again. She realized he wasn't going to hurt her.

[Guest]

As the warm breeze blew through the inhabited valley, a lone mare (or so she thought) was grazing deep amongst the greenest grasses. It was spring and the rains had watered the grass just enough to make it fresh and wonderful tasting. It long blades reach up to her white stocking legs and some even tickled her belly. Though her face was half hidden by the grasses, anyone could tell she was charming. The sun beat down in warm waves that seemed to roll off of her deep palomino pelt and make it shine with health. The rays danced through her creme silken tail and highlighted her long mane that cascaded over her slender neck.
Pearl was a dainty and feminine arabian mare just over her fourth year and very free spirited. This was her first year being on her own and she had discovered the many danger that life brings. Though she came across as fragile, it was all a fraud. She was really a feisty mare.

Upon hearing thunderous hoof beats and shrilling cries, Pearl elevated her dish-shaped head, bearing a white blaze and pink mug, and searched with lucid green eyes for the protruders of her sanctuary. She found the two horses, a stallion and a mare much like her, racing across the valley. From a distance she assumed they were courting until she got curious and drew closer. Pearl soo realized he was on the attack! The two rushed off and Pearl followed in hot pursuit hoping to see what would happen.

She hid behind a few bushes, keeping an eye in the two. She almost hoped the other mare would have taken out that naughty stud, but instead she didn't. That's when she noticed the stud was there to help her, not hurt her. Hoping to left unnoticed, Pearl started to retreat and stepped on a twig...