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She had taken to exploring every inch of her new home as possible, despite her near-crushing fear of being killed to death by some awful creature that wanted her dead for reasons she couldn’t understand. You see, Coraline is a three year old in body, but in her mind, she is still a yearling. She had been enveloped in a magical coma that held her for two years, allowing her body to age, but her mind to remain dormant. And because her mother was a real piece of work, the filly was terrified of nearly everything. Everything was going to kill her. Each sound was a predator, ready to pounce. Her mother really screwed her up badly. But the filly didn’t blame her, after all, she was blemished. While her coat was the pristine silver that everyone else in her herd had, she was marked. Her legs, mane, tail, muzzle and points were all black. Black! Tarnished! And on top of that (as if it weren’t bad enough!) she had buttons for eyes. Nobody understood how it happened, or why. Her mother wanted to kill her, but because of the strange love she had for the child’s father, allowed her to live. But there were no fairy-tale stories, or being snuggled. No love or affection. Even feedings were few and meager at best. The filly learned to be quiet and stay hidden, for she was some sort of monster. At least, that’s what her mother taught her. So back to the story at hand. The girl was exploring when she heard a melodic voice. Hiding wherever she could find a shady place (because you can’t really hide when your fur is a glittery silver!) she listened to the song. She didn’t understand it, but thought it was a beautiful voice all the same. Slowly, she crept closer, trying her best to stay hidden and silent. The creature (who happens to be another horse-like entity) comes into view, and the filly stares at him. He had wings, too. Was she the only one in this place without wings? Was she still a freak among oddities? She made a fretful sound in her throat and then froze, knowing he heard her. All predators had good ears. He was going to eat her now, because she witnessed some strange ritual. She was sure of it. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, a cloud shifted, throwing sunlight on her fur, ensuring she was glittering and visible. The filly tried to hunch herself into a tiny ball, wishing desperately to be invisible. All she could think was, “please kill me fast…I don’t want it to hurt!” ”Speech” |
 | Silver chain from the pirate siren | Blue Macaw feather in mane | |
@Iliad
