Surprise | Zeke

[Benett]

 

Crunch, crunch, swish. Crunch, crunch, swish. The sounds of skittering footfalls hitting the dense layers of leaf-litter on the forest floor. The sound was off, like something was wrong with the creature. There was nothing wrong with this beast though, well, at least not physically. His stride was a mixture of a jog and a startled skitter, kind of how you would expect a fleeing lizard to move. For an equine, this was not normal at all, nor was it helpful in any way, shape or form. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Anything listening within a mile could probably hear him, and he tended to trip and stumble over every rock, stick or hole that got in his way. The only good thing about this chaotic gait was the fact that he was ready to bolt in a moment’s notice. Nothing would be able to get too close to him. No, he’d be gone long before anything reached him. Unfortunately, this equine, known as Benett, had been moving this way for over two years now and it was ingrained in him. What he failed to realize is that by acting this way, he drew more attention to himself than he would otherwise. Or maybe he did realize it, but his brain refused to cooperate.
  Slowly, a whooshing roar started to echo over Benett’s ruckus. The sound of water rushing over rocks, and lots of it. The sound was both welcoming and terrifying to the lithe colt. Terrifying because he would lose his sense of hearing, yet welcoming because his parched throat cried out to be drenched. Without any change in the density of the forest, a river opened up before him. A river that led straight to massive pool, being fed by an even more massive waterfall. The source of the roaring, Benett guessed. He knew it had to have been water, but this was so unexpected it made him let loose a snort of fear. Dancing in place, Benett eyed the falls warily. He could feel the mist hitting his face, but this only made him snort again. The feeling was foreign and odd. He didn’t like it at all. Skittering and fidgeting, the white colt moved down river until he could no longer feel the spray. Feeling somewhat better, but never completely at ease, Benett slowly and awkwardly approached a bank on the river where the water wasn’t moving too terribly fast. Eyes wide with fear as usual, the colt’s gaze darted around the forest searching for anything that could be a threat, or may be hiding one. Nothing immediately jumped out at him, which comforted him enough to finally lower his head to the water’s surface. The liquid was like heaven as it slid down his throat, but he didn’t dare take long gulps for fear of being snuck up on. No, he’d only take a couple of small sips before lifting his head again and checking his surroundings. Always watching, always waiting, always expecting.


Word Count | 500
Tagged | Sacoorah
Notes | Sorry it’s so late! Also sorry it’s not the greatest. Lol! Oh! Right. I know I said I’d post in the glade, but I kind of need to RP Benett in places where he can get cornered so you can actually interact with him, as I feel he’d bolt given half the chance. XD

[Sacoorah]

Original

The sixteen point three hand, Ardennes, Clydesdale cross stallion had again not slept, his deep purple voids were wide in terror, every shadow was that of one of the herd come back after these couple of years to abuse him again, perhaps murder him this time. The blue roan shadow paced through the dappled shadows and the heat of the trees and each step was almost a panicked one and his voids rolled with his uncertainty and fright, each sound of his knives on the ground startled the poor stag and he was lathered in sweat within moments and it was only...partly...from the humidity of this place. As he stumbled down a small incline in the trees he nearly fell head over hoof into the water stretching before him. In fact in his hasty halt, Zeke slid halfway into the water and the splash startled him, he leapt upward and started running blindly ahead.

He tripped over his own knives and then, at the roar of the falls there at the end of the river he tumbled and fell to the ground, sprawled before the falls. He didn't even notice the other until he lifted his skull and shook it to clear his sight again. Then, then he spotted the flash of ivory and a frightened screech slipped free of his muzzle. "NO!  NO PLEASE!! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME ANYMORE!!"  Zeke screamed and tried to quickly gain back his knives and lift himself off the ground. He only succeeded in sending himself sprawling backward again and tumbling up against a trunk of a nearby tree with huge, sprawling leaves. His deep purple pools were nearly white with the fright that threatened to completely consume him.

He had terrible flashbacks to his past and it sent him into more terrors of then. The once handsome blue roan stag was reduced to nothing more than a shivering ball of fear. It also didn't help that he was far, far too thin for his stature, the feathering on his limbs making them look like they were far thicker than they actually were. His limbs were twigs, his ribs were completely visible, he had hardly any musculature on him, he was a mere skeleton of what he could have been. Zeke squeezed his eyes shut and silently prayed that the ivory equine on the other side of the river would leave him alone until he could silently slip away and vanish from any farther harm to be inflicted upon his scarred, shaking hide.  



Word Count: 424 
"Speaking"
Listening
Notes: Benett, awww...poor Zekey baby. He needs a patient, understanding stallion or mare...or both...to help him out.