i [d a r e] you

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

The ground trembled beneath pounding hooves. Hundreds of hooves, racing to one place. The Alliance was getting closer, led by the silver one. Silver Mist. I stood proud at the ledge, both of my foals hidden safely in the ravine below. The massive cloud of dust surged forward, and the equine causing it halted right before me. Silver Mist glanced first at me, then back to her army. Words were exchanged. It was obvious she was wondering where my army was... and where He was. The Alliance assured me no harm would come to me or my foals, as long as I didn't fight and surrendered Him. But I don't know where he is. I thought, but instead let out a laugh. You'll all be dead in a moment, and I would never turn him over to you. I shouted, staring across at my hundreds of opponents. But where is He? Where did He go? How am I supposed to fight this battle alone? He left me, abandoned me to deal with his mess... he didn't love me, he never did. He just used me. Spiritspawn. I whispered, pinning my ears and rearing up. I drew in a deep breath, feeling no fear... just remorse for letting him get at me... and then, I charged the mass. For I am an army of one, fighting for two. The group before me parted, swallowing me into it's center. Hooves clashed, teeth struck, flesh tore and blood spilled. They kept coming at me, an army on all sides seeking to destroy me... and succeeding. I swallowed back the pain, and glanced at the ledge... Tempest and Tombstone's Revenge, my twins, stood there... watching... and between them was him. Spiritspawn. Their father, laughing at my effort, with Gravecraze at his side. Gravecraze murmured something, and Spiritspawn nodded and charged down. The army disappeared like magic... and I fell before Spirit's knee, staring up at his heartless face. Why..? Spiritspawn, help me... I managed, my voice weak from blood lost. i was pleading. With pleasure. He laughed, raising a dinner plate sized hoof. My eyes went wide with horror and disbelief, as it came crashing down. Mother! Tombstone cried out, and then... it was over. It all went black, as my soul drifted from the scene...

DreamWeaver

A soft breeze ran overhead, though no birdsong danced alongside it. This land... it was too destroyed, too full of memories, too ravaged to be accompanied by anything but death. Death had destroyed it, claimed it, morphed it and molded it to be exactly what those who wandered upon it would expect. Hell. The depression in the land almost seemed metallic, as if the debris from the meteor had exploded, and that's where the celestial body had decided to call home. A single dead tree stood at the lip to the decline, it's branches sagging in a sad display of effort, while on one of it's few branches sat a condor. His black eyes searched the land greedily for an easy meal, one that life would begin to fade from and eventually completely disappear. For it seemed to happen quite often that way, death reeked within the bottom of that pit. Then again, it could just be the burning smell that filled the air, polluting it so that one would almost expect to see glimpses of smog rising from the depths. That is, until you felt what it was like to be within hell... to feel all the dead and lost souls groping for a way out, eager to pull you down if it meant they may save themselves...

Deep within the smoldering center of the terrain, one could simply attempt to see what lay beneath the curtain of deception that cradled one's vision. Upon the ledge of the pit lay a mare, deep within slumber, while a nightmare haunted her. White legs struck out in anxiety, her teeth clacking though her muzzle never parted. Muscles spasmed, as though the maiden felt thousands of teeth tearing the hide from her skin. Her whole body tensed, and after a moment, relaxed completely. That is, until her ice blue eyes flashed open. The mare was pregnant with despair, believing the nightmare had been reality. Her eyes searched the surroundings quickly, once, twice as if she couldn't believe what she was looking at. Her nostrils flared wide, breathing heavy and ragged... then she realized, it was the dream. The same dream she had been having for months, perhaps nearly a year. A sigh shook the petite equine's body, her eyes closing as she awaited the pace of her heart to slow to something more comfortable and acceptable, only then could she assess the situation she now found herself in.

Free of the dreams, with her beater down to normal once more, she opened her eyes and studied the surroundings, fully taking it in for the first time. White legs picked the Arabian mass up from the ground, nary a struggle in each movement she made. From the moment she stood, her ancestry could not be denied. An arched neck held a proud dished head high, as it swung slowly to look over her back and into the pit. An ashen forelock curved and tumbled freely down her face, covering one ice blue eye from view, whilst the other surveyed with minor interest. A cream hind hoof was cocked, her black, brown and white tail held high in the dominance she simply assumed, no matter where she was. The chestnut paint was the picture of innocence, though her heart simply didn't match. That hide stood out against the dead surroundings, petite body turning to adjust her view, so that the maiden was facing the incline dead on. One wouldn't be able to tell if she was impressed by the land's transformation or disgusted, as her eyes showed nothing relating to her thoughts and soul. As far as she was concerned, she no longer had one.

Silence surrounded her fragile body, hooves picking their way carefully down the steep incline. The stench greeted her flared nostrils, though no disgust crossed the patterns of her face, her eyes trained upon her footing. Rocks tumbled down before her, unearthed from their resting place by her scrambling hooves as she slid down. One such rock caught her hind leg, and the minuscule wench slipped. Her body slid down the rest of the incline, landing at the bottom with a thud. Her eyes closed against the shock, she simply lay at the ledge's end and regained her breath. Finally, the maiden stood up once more, shaking the debris loose from her hide. A slight limp in her gait, the vixen continued on her trek to the center of the pit, still silent in regards to her voice. Her mind, however, was anything but quite. It rambled on with unvoiced thoughts, dreadfully fixated upon love and Spiritspawn. How could I have been so foolish and given my heart away so easily? The object was to play the game... get the power, and be a success. But... I fell in love. Her regrets upon that matter were deep, though her conviction not to fall in love once more? Only time would tell how that would hold up.

|oOc|
sorry =x getting back into the swing of DreamWeaver after a two year hiatus from her is proving difficult... the quality of this post totally blows