Only Here to Cause T R O U B L E

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The mare looks around for her foal, wondering where the little beast had gotten off to this time. Probably playing with Cursed Pirate for all she knows... or cares. Her tail swishes over her back, brushing away the flies that have taken advantage of her momentary pause. She goes back to pacing. The snow crunches under her flints, and her head hangs low to the ground. The trees are blanketed with crystal-like ice, that would be beautiful, has she not seen them, and resented them and every other living thing in the land. Besides, they don't do much for the land either, not even blocking the harsh wind. The mare shivers. She wanders away from her spot, farther from the center of the land, where she probably should be staying. The vixen glares over her shoulder, daring anyone to come out and bring her back. Anger flows in her blood, and resentment, at the stallion who now "owns" her. As if she is some pet to sell or trade. Almost. She is a slave to Joker. She dares the violet stag to come out and punish her. Violet. Add an 'n' and it becomes violent. How suiting. Sarcasm laces her thoughts, and her pace grows to a trot. She doubts that Joker will even come and retrieve her. She can just run away or go die in a ditch for all he cares. Once she's gone, he'll probably just kill the filly.

That makes her stop.

False Hope turns, looking back at her lone prints in the snow. She can almost picture her little filly's prints beside her, before they fade into nothingness as she is left to deal with her father. Poor Memory. She turns, back towards her chance, thinking of her lovely foal, black, just like her, and her eyes. Every time Hope looks into Bittersweet Memory's eyes, she sees herself. She can't leave her foal behind, can she? Annoyance covers the worry for her foal as it dawns on her that she'll have to return to gather the filly up. And even then, Memory probably won't want to leave. Hope has a hunch that Joker might be making life a little more enjoyable for her foal, and that isn't helped with the fact that Memory has Cursed Pirate. Cursed Pirate. The colt that is generous enough to give her a tour of the land, and, no matter how harsh it is, and how much she resents it, Hope has to admit, it is beautiful. But only a little. The mare takes a step back, still having not made up her mind.

Two foals would be enough to draw attention, and she doubts she could slip away again if she returns.

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Grand Summit had been captured by Joker, against her own will. She remembered going to the fields that day. I am stupid.She repeated those words over and over until they had a permanent home in her confused head. She remembers Joker capturing her with fire. And then it is just black. Walking slowly through the forest, Summit didn't know where she was going. If she escaped, he'd find her. If she stayed, she probably wouldn't get killed. But if she joined a different herd... could Joker really attack just to steal her away? Probably not, not against a whole herd. She was an Integrated mare, never fully Dark. Did he not understand that? You can not make one dark. Born Integrated, Summit's stubborn mind had no intention of switching. She was more light on her Integrated side than dark. Joker was dumb. She couldn't wait until he suffered from death, or was pushed from his thrown. Wishful thinking, that horse would live forever.

Maybe she could go to the Icy mountain and wish for something powerful, to kill him. Maybe-she broke off. More hoof prints littered the snow, very fresh. She called uietly. "Hello?" She didn't wat to scare whoever was out there. Mybe it could be a ticket out of the land..... maybe...

(Post finished later!!!)

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I'm not going back...
False Hope turns at the sound of another voice, breath caught in her throat. She freezes for a moment, scared that she has been dicovered. Then in her head, she listens to the voice again. It doesn't sound like Joker's. Not as low. Or harsh. More uncertain. She sees a horse, sillohetted against the sunlight. The mare blinks, and looks back at her chance of freedom. Then she turns to the horse again. Man does she hope that it is not one of Joker's little pets. Cursed Pirate even. He would tell Joker anything, mostlikely, to avoid getting hurt.

You can't make me...
Who is it? Her voice is quiet, tentative, unsure. Her hooves lead her closer to the horse. She'd scent the other, but she is upwind. Bad luck. She moves at a steady walk, tail swishing nervously. Her ears move back, as she nears the other horse. Her hooves step into or next to the ones she had left, and finally she realizes who the other horse is. She is not Joker. More like a slave mare, like her, captured and brought here against her will. The horse does not have the air of royals that any in Joker's family tree would, er, any adults, that is. And she doesn't have the look of pity or disgust that is often given to her, and perhaps the other slaves.

I won't let you...
A thought strikes her, one that hadn't reached her mind before. Perhaps this mare was looking for a way out as well. Maybe they could travel together! Hope, being the social type, does not like being alone. She had been raised in the company of others, taught to be polite and considerate, trusting of equines. Yet she had been betrayed by her lessons. Joker, whom she had first thought to be kind had taken her slave, sired a foal out of her against her will. Bittersweet Memory. Fitting name. Almost. Bittersweet is not the word False Hope would use to describe her memories with Joker. More like bitter. Or sour. Are you... leaving? Her voice surprises her. She hadn't thought to speak, even known. It hadn't registered with her.