Post by guinness on Nov 30, 2007 16:31:49 GMT -5
Nervously the small chestnut Arabian filly trotted into the meadow. As she saw all the beautiful grass and wonderful memories came, memories of her parents, Sarib (saw-reeb) and Argo. Sarib was a wonderful mother and she was always there for her young foal, she taught Lily to respect all living creatures from the tiniest mouse to the mightiest cougar. Her father, Argo, was a wonderful father he taught her to run like the wind that blew across there homeland, to listen to the birds that trilled warning of danger, to fight like their ancestors in the mighty battles they took part in, and to smell her way to the wonderful oasis(s) that were full of life giving water. You see she wasn't from this land, she was from what her kind called the land of vast sands and great heat. One day mean men on horses with no wildness came and herded her family as well as many others into big, gaping metal mouths, soon she felt the rocking of the waves under her hooves. They were fed very little and many of them died. As soon as her hooves touched the ground she ran away from the noise, away from the angry two-leggers and screaming horses, and she didn't stop not until now. Now that she was tired, hooves sore, and starvingly hungry and amazingly thirsty. Looking around, she sighed her breath heaving, she folded her legs under her and nibbled lightly on the grass. Her last thought before sleep finally overtook her was that this seemed like a very safe place to rest, a very safe place indeed.
