A Forcer At Heart

Nightfall's Raven

My long, elegant ashy black legs stepped near-silently through the bare terrain, flicking my ears nervously. I didn't trust this place; It was all dead and far too silent for my taste, but my wandering had somehow brought me here. All I wanted was to get out as soon as possible, to leave this place far behind. But running was nigh impossible: The sharp rocks would tear through the frog of my hooves and lame me, and then where would I be? Probably dead by nightfall. Hm. Weird, was my name. Nightfall's Raven... It made no sense. I was not raven-black, not even sooty. No, my hide was a milky color, my mane, tail, legs, and head an ashy black, though my head was a little lighter. But Raven? Or Nightfall? No, that did not explain my colour at all!

Shaking my mane, I stumbled on one of the rocks, wincing slightly as it cut my hoof. Arching my neck and bensing slightly to rub my nose on my leg, I froze. A scent travelled to me on the wind, of a stallion. My body quivered slightly, but not in excitement. In fear. My mother had been killed by a band of stallions when I was a mere yearling, and then they had tried to rape me. But I had somehow managed to leave, and had wandered around for the two years since. Alone. Yes, I was rising three now, and I could tell I was in my first heat. I had seen it happen to other mares. Now I clamped my tail tightly against my rump, the whites of my eyes showing as I stepped forward, unable to find where the smell was coming from. Better keep moving than stay and wait for him to find me. I was vulnerable when in heat. So I stepped forward, glancing around nervously and keeping my tail tightly down, leaving blood every time I stepped down on my right fore from where the rock had cut into me.

Though little did I know, that I was walking unknowingly closer to the stallion, and that he was just beyond the trees whose end I was fast approaching...

Nightfall's Raven

I stepped as quietly as possible trhough the woods, concentrating strongly on where I was stepping down on my feet and momentairly forgetting about the stallion, allowing myself to believe that I had started off in the opposite direction and away from him. I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice the undeniable scent that was growing stronger and filling the air the more I walked. Every so often my hoof would tick against a rock, sending out a loud ping! every time I did so, and I tripped in surprise as well. I could go faster, but that would only give me three options: A) I would get a cut on another of my hoove's and make it hurt almost every time I stepped down B) I would get a deeper cut in my already hurt hoof and make it just that much more torture or C) I would get cuts on all or three of my hooves, then each time I stepped down I'd be limping. Yeah, so I chose with the option that avoided all three of those dilemna(sp?): Walking slow and wobbling slightly every time I stepped wrong on a sharp rock to avoid cutting myself. Heh, it almost sounds emo. And was I? No. Otherwise I'd be galloping.

Every so often I wwould have to brush up against a tree, and their dead, curled fingers clawed at my hide, mane, and tail, and I'd have to rip free, wincing each time as it pulled hairs loose from my body. I grumbled softly under my breath. I hated this place! If I had known it was coming up, I would have avoided it. Once, only once, I looked up, making sure I would run head first into a tree, though that'd be just my lck, and froze, midstep. All at once I remembered my earlier fears and actually scented the wind. The stallion. Lord, I could see him now, and he wasn't that far away. I contemplated running; No, that would do no good. He'd easily be able to cut me off, and I wouldn't even be able to gallop properly over the dead terrain. I didn't even try to think that he might be nice, that he might not try to chase me; The only stallions I had ever seen had been the one band of murderers and forcers. Every other stallion I had ever had the misfortune of crossing paths with I had avoided as if they were the deadly horse cough.

I could feel my body start trembling uncontrollably, could smell my scent drifting around me as I stared at him, paralyzed in fear. It wasn't my fault what I was doing; Not only was it Mother Nature forcing me to release my in-heat scent, it was the instinct that I tried so hard to resist.