Pounding.

Mud on hooves, sticking as they move.

Up          Up
      Down      Down

The exhilaration of air being forced through lungs.

This is running.









Always. Always running.

Alone; I am strong
I can carry the weight of the world on my back.
Together; we are indestructible
When we stand as one- I don't have to.

Jumping, leaping, flying in the dark;
Catching all the stars in his mouth,
And holding on for dear life.

Love went in.

Love went out.

The cold crept in.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Juices flow from the bunch- stuck, growing, on the stalk. The taste of sweet on the tongue is the payoff with the assumption there is no pain. All creatures suckle and nip for the sugar sweetness of the bleeding fruit.

The waves crashed along the shore and lines of soft white slowly drifted back into the sea. Putting her ear close enough she could hear the tiny bubbles pop.

The light was all encompassing and terrible. All who looked upon it went blind and turned to dust. The sun wept as those below perished in her overabundance.

A darkness came over the sky and enveloped the sun.

"Shh," a voice sang softly, "rest now."

Dark clouds rolled violently overhead. The only visibility came from arcs of lightening; crackling shards of brightness leaping cloud to cloud. No sound preceded or followed. All she could hear was the thundering of her heart as it threatened to beat out of her chest.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

Boom.

The doe's body lay draped along a fallen tree in the marsh. The lower half of her resting in the swamp water had puffed and bloated. The upper half had fed various types of creatures and it showed.
It was foals that found her first; as children were the most adventurous anyhow, and soon they'd made a game of 'dare and dash' out of their find. At first it was with sticks. Prodding and exploring the bloodier or more squishy parts. The boldest of the group used his hooves to roll her over.
The smallest and most timid held back.
The other foals laughed and chanted: "Poke her. Poke her."

She stepped forward. In one decisive move the young filly stretched out a hoof and....

A necessary distraction. - In which Distraction is nearly eaten by lions, stung by wasps, and is given his name. (W/ Tremendous & Ruriska)

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She'd been practicing this for a long time and today was going to be the day. Wading out into the cool water she could see her feet move along the lake's bottom. The deeper she went didn't change this fact. Once she was at the spot she'd pre-determined was the ideal place to wait-- She stopped.

And she stood. Calm and barely breathing.

She waited until all around her the ripples stilled and she was one with the still waters that surrounded her.

SPLASH!

A flurry of sharp movements and frothing water lasted less than a blink of an eye and she had her prize. In her mouth was a gleaming fish. This was going to be easy.

His sister had set out to find the perfect body of water for her experiment, and he'd tagged along with her. He shouldn't have, as the path she took him on was no real path at all. The tree life was too dense for his broad body and sharp horns. He found himself constantly catching on the bark of the towering cypress and swamp willow that all but blocked out the sunlight ahead.

The density of water and plant life hadn't been a problem for his sister until she was done fishing and wanted to head back to the small outcropping of dry land they called home, and the path she'd led them on was obscured. If there'd ever really been one at all.

The swamp was getting darker and darker, but a flash of sunset illuminated the solution. Grinning, he led her to where one of his horns had made a small but deep cut in the bark of a tree.

Then another.

And another.

Before real panic could start to set in he'd led them home. With an affection headbutt his sister acknowledged the feat with but two words--

"Small cuts."

Oh, my sweet darlings. - In which a young totoma buck saves his adoptive father from certain death and is given his name. (Solo w/ Learns By Listening)

Winter came and food was starting to become scarce. What little the clan had was stored in packed snow just off from where they gathered for rest and warmth. The lamb heard a soft scurry under the snow and followed it closer towards the food. Eyes narrowed- She leapt and pounced into the snow face first. After much wiggling she emerged with a now very dead rodent between her teeth.

Spring came to the mountains and, though the snow and ice stayed the same, the trees bore tender needles and the hibernating animals returned. Her clan were foraging for hearty briar berries now, but it was hard to find any not already half-eaten. Sharp, young, eyes caught movement overhead. She lowered her front legs and watched until- A LEAP! Hooves hit the ground and a broken jaybird landed next to them.

Summer came, and with it slightly warmer ground. Edible roots were finally able to be pulled from the thawed ground. They were a delicious treat with the hare(and if they were incredibly lucky, the bear) they'd hunted. Only if nothing had eaten them first. The clan was digging, when a hoof lashed out and a satisfying crunch was heard. A beetle, but alone- A scout.

Fall came and laughter and pride filled the air. She'd been too young to join in the big hunts, but had hunted nonetheless. In the process she'd saved the clan's food, and all because she'd caught the things too small for the others to notice. Her parents, as the clan watched on, gave to their daughter a name: Hunts Small Things.

The incessant beating around her felt wrong; thicker, squishy, and slow. The more she listened to it the more diseased her own heart felt.