Post by Hazel on Mar 25, 2013 9:49:28 GMT -5
Name: Ava
Age: 4 years
Breed: Thoroughbred
Gender: Mare
Height: 16hh
Color: Smoky Black
Eye Color: Brown
Markings: Manchado Spots, Thick Stripe
History: Ava was the oddball spotted foal out of a relatively healthy foaling season. She was born in spring, as was all the other foals that lived in the same herd as she did. Her herd's history was long; they had lived in the area since the very first arrival of horses. There was conflict from the beginning, and while other herds tried to contain their growth, they came to accept that their efforts were futile.
As such, while some herds failed, Ava's ancestors thrived. Or, so the elders used to say. Ava always found their story telling captivating, and as a foal found her passion for words and speaking, and how talking could be used instead of ones own teeth or hooves. It was this passion that would later on cause her so much pain, however.
When she was two years old, like most young females in the herd, she sought out a stallion to whisk her off her feet, and one day soon make her a mother. Things had been tense with rival herds in the area, but still Ava felt the time was right. She was excited, as were her siblings and family, but before anything could progress, the tension between the rival herds broke. Ava remembers being asked to come and speak on behalf of her home and family, along with one of the elders. What happened as they approached to discuss matters one last time left her constantly blaming herself for most everything.
They had climbed to the top of a small hill, where the discussions were to take place. But instead of being greeted by other diplomats, they were met by the rival herd's warriors. The elder who had gone with her went down quickly, with hardly a struggle. But Ava, she ran. Or, she tried to. Jumping out of the way of the attacking horses, she raced down the hill, trying so hard not to trip herself up. She had to get back to her family, to warn them of the danger, to rally their own troops. Yet just as she was to call out to them, her legs tangled up in roots that lined a steep ditch. Her call muffled to a distant whine, Ava tumbled down the hole, landing hard on the ground at the bottom.
There was a sharp pain in her belly, and while her mind crossed over to worry about her unborn foal, her heart ached to help her colony. The pit she had fallen down had been a pool coming off a river at one point, so following the long since gone flow of water, Ava slowly made her way around for what felt like hours before coming back out into the fresh air. She was muddy and incredibly sore, but she had made it out.
Limping as fast as she could to where her herd would be, Ava heard her mother's wailing before she saw any of the destruction. Corpses lay strewn about, adults and foals alike, both herds having been destroyed by each other. Ava's mother, a round bellied chestnut, so mentally overwhelmed by the horror, just cried out for her children. She even cried out for Ava, just as her daughter tried to give her affection, to soothe her broken heart. She didn't seem to recognize her, and simply continued on, wailing for her lost children.
Of the bodies she found, Ava knew of her brother and her father's death, as well as her grandfather's. But the rest; her sisters, her grandmother, she wondered where they had gone. Trying to get some rest in the broken remains of her childhood home, more despair was brought to Ava by the next morning, when she miscarried the tiny foal she had been carrying.
Having nothing else to keep her there, her mother having eventually wandered off into the woods, constantly wailing for her children, Ava left to wander off herself. There was nothing left for her there.