something that is beating ; open

[ashes]

VALKYRIE.

the sunlight streamed down, covering her nearly completely black body and the grass around her. what clouds were present were large, fluffy things that just floated, sitting boringly up in the blue sky. her sturdy body stood a little over seventeen hands, held up by muscular pillars mounted on sharp black knives. her thick black mane fell against her body, hanging a good way past her shoulders, and her long tail just barely grazed the dusty earth. sometimes hard to see from certain angles were her markings, faint lines streaking all across her body, from nose to rump to every last feather on her hooves. silvery zebra stripes. she didn't have any fancy head gear or spines, and she was glad for it. she couldn't imagine having to carry huge horns around on her head the whole time.

her lips parted and white teeth sliced and chewed at the grasses growing around her, long and short, green and yellow and gold. her tail flicked and her ears swiveled, listening to the nearby birdsong. her dark eyes closed, the light-hearted song calming her. this peaceful scene, it was nice, serene, and it almost made her forget that the north and south were in the middle of a war. the fools, she wondered how many of them even knew what they were fighting for. how many were just fighting because someone bigger and stronger than them told them to? how many were doing it because they enjoyed it? how many actually had a cause, a motive, and understood the why of the war? this thought dragged a sigh from her lungs and out her nostrils. the fools.

power. power was usually the driving force behind things like this. because horses are selfish, jealous creatures. because life is cruel. valkyrie raised her head, scanning the land, glancing up at the clouds and the blue sky. it was only a fake, a veil hiding the truth from her. there was no peace. there was no serenity. only lies. but of course, she was well acquainted with lies. she'd grew up with them. she'd mastered them at a young age. she had quite the affinity for lying, and so she knew never to believe something to be what it seemed.