Common

(CONTENT WARNING!)
(Suicidal thoughts and animal abuse.)








With her eyes closed, the small mare did not register anyone near her. All she could see were memories flinging themselves forward as if she was really going to die. Her time as a foal with her pale parents. Her time with the two-legged humans. Her time with the burning hot metal, smoldering stones, and the long whips. It did not matter how bad the memories were, Evangaline could see them all and she hated it. Her ears tucked tight to her head as she did her best to shut the memories out, but as her lips opened and her teeth almost came into contact with the flower, the worst of the memories came to a head while outside of her mind a stallion got in her way.


Locked in her mind, Evangaline could almost taste the smoke in the air. Her small ears perked forward as her dull gaze latched itself upon the human before her. He was pumping air into the furnace, many branding tools already red hot and sizzling in the depths of the captive inferno. Her small legs were shackled with rope and tied against the boards of her “stall” as they called it. Standing there, the mare could feel the heat of the fire against her face and did her best to avoid it all coming at her. Unable to move though, the pale mare was stuck hanging her head and letting the heat blast at her withers and top of her neck.


Shaking her head and pulling against the ropes, the mare did her best to escape the pain. She would never get free, that much she knew at the current moment. Hearing the human speak to another though, the mare let her eyes flicker open once more and watched as two men looked at her and then the fire. She did not know what she had done to deserve this treatment, but soon enough one was holding her tightly by the neck and keeping her from biting the other as the red hot branding iron came her way and soon enough sizzled against her flesh and caused her to cry out in her high pitched pony whinny.


Held there captive, the mare could only cry while they branded her, the odd shape burnt into her flesh and the smell of burned hair filling the open expanse of the building. Her pale ears tucked to her head even tighter when with a faint sucking sound the iron was pulled from her skin and she was allowed to stand there shivering. Blood seeped from a wound on her back, but when she was about to face more of the incoming psychical torment, the mare heard a voice outside of her mind and finally came back to the present.


Letting her gaze open and scan the taller, darker stallion, Evangaline took everything in. He had stomped and ruined the flower, the plant making a sickening smell now that it had been broken and allowed to let its perfume fully fill the air. The dark depths of her eyes flicked to the stallion before she gave a faint shrug, her bony frame trembling now that her escape was ruined and smashed into a heap upon the ground. She was unable to eat it now that it had been broken, its scent enough to make her gag if horses had that reflex.


Stepping backwards, Evangaline sighed faintly. “No, I am not okay.” She murmured, her tone soft and barely audible. She had not spoken in so long that she was not sure how loud to speak. She had been alone for so long as well that she just didn't know what others preferred when it came to loudness. Silence has been her only friend for a long time, but as she shook her skinny frame her mane lifted from the one side and the odd branding symbol the humans gave her was faintly on display before it went back to its hiding place under the short and matted strands.


“My name is Evangaline.” She murmured then, her head lowered to stare at the ground already plotting her next steps. She was unaware of the customs on these islands, but she cared not to learn really. Evangaline wanted to die, to be gone. Two years old and already the fight had been beaten and taken from her body. Sick humans had a way of doing that, but she did not know that the horses on these islands did have families and could help heal her broken mind, heart, and will.