† recite your prayers in the dead of night †
The ocean unceremoniously washes the palomino mare onto the sandy shoreline. She coughs up a mouthful of seawater and soon starts to shiver as the autumn breeze starts to nip and bite at her sodden flesh. The sun is just breaking on the horizon, if she’s lucky it will be a bright sunny day where she can quickly dry her golden coat. Then again, life had never been particularly kind to poor little Witche. The world had been very cruel and unkind to her since she was a foal. In fact this was the second time she had survived a night being hurled through turbulent ocean waves. At least this time she made the decision to jump instead of being pushed in. Well, looks like it still wasn’t her time to go! How many times had she escaped death's grasp now? When will her luck run dry?
She flicks her long ivory fringe from her brown eyes and stares blearily at the nearby sand dunes. Where was she exactly? With a snort she makes an attempt to rise to her hooves but ends up stumbling back down onto the sand. Her legs were stiff after a night of treading water. Lying on her side she takes a moment to catch her breath and stretch out her aching limbs. Her chest rises and falls steadily as she breathes in the salty air. One eye staring at the gulls circling and squawking above in the blue sky and she silently hopes she doesn’t get pooped on. That would just be the cherry on top of this already terrible cake.
A smile cracks her lips, followed shortly by a giggle before escalating into full blown cackling. She is both amazed and grateful to still be alive.
W I † C H E
mare - three years - homeless |