Posted on October 14, 2014 at 05:20:39 PM by KASABiAN
 And it's consequences keep you up at night. So the usually happy-go-lucky stud had kept to himself. He avoided those with whom he lived with at the Ridge. He strayed among the peaks and meandered awkwardly over the rock-riddled paths. He grazed haphazardly when he had to. Kasabian felt as if he had lost control -- as if he was impersonating someone else. He didn't know who he was anymore or why he felt like this. There was so much to be thankful for -- his friends and the land in which he lived, to start. But something else had washed over him. Something vile. Something with ill intent. It soured everything else. Perhaps if Kasabian knew his father, he could come to understand this fog that clouded his mind. This sickness that coursed through his veins and poisoned whatever good was still left in his life. But the tawny stallion never knew his father. His mother, Evaline, filled his head with fantastic lies about this phantom character all his life, and it wasn't until recently that Kasabian began to question what he had been told. Kasabian didn't realize that he was the product of rape. His mother, manhandled by some stranger more than a decade ago, and his father, some beast who had spread his sickness through his genes. The madness had taken root and grown slowly but feverishly as Kasabian aged. It blossomed now at the ripe year of 11 within his brain. He needed something. A distraction. A purpose. Anything, really, to get him out of this funk. So he tried to focus on the stallion standing in front of him. There were brief glimpses when Kasabian would feel like himself. Like as he listened to the young intruder, who was still dripping wet from his recent swim. Whatever malice that pumped through him seemed to temporarily evaporate, giving way to a kinder demeanor, and the tawny stallion's hardened expression softened, if only for a moment. Kasabian even welcomed him with a neutral nicker. The buckskin stallion didn't speak for some time. Instead, his gaze drifted out over the ocean, emerald eyes focusing on the looming clouds that hovered in the distance. A strong gust off the ocean whipped through the Ridge's canyon-like walls, the wind howled as it passed through the porous peaks and made the wispy strands of Kasabian's dark mane dance atop his topline. He could smell the storm in the passing breeze. "It doesn't look like that storm is going to pass by anytime soon." Kasabian spoke, bobbing his head, as if pointing out to the dark skies ahead. "Maybe you should hunker down here for the night and take off in the morning, once the weather has cleared." He offered the stallion a friendly smirk, it hung lopsided on his whiskered lips. "I'm Kasabian. Where you coming from, kid?" KASABiAN 11 | Buckskin | Stallion | Arabian X Thoroughbred X Mustang X Halflinger | 16. 1 | © Vinyl |