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Description

Word Count: 1,199
Activity: stat training-stam/speed-galloping
Season: Summer
Seasonal Prompt: --
Location: Kesera Tropics, beach
Herd Member(s): --
Lead Stallion: Karma's Cowboy
Gradually, Karma adds weight to his injured leg, testing it. Luckily it doesn't seem like he had broken anything. He still doesn't know what part of his body is actually injured, but at least it's not a broken bone.
Soon he faces the huge door again. His eyes roam from the hinges to the light, to the edges, and back to the hinges. Maybe if he breaks the hinges he'll be able to break out. Or he'd just ruin his chances of escape altogether. Plus, the door already appears broken. Maybe if he just tries kicking at it? Or pushing against it?
He glances down at his injured leg, still being favored. He opts for trying to push it open first.
Turning so he's on his good side, he situates himself up against the door with his muscles tense, and hooves planted against the floor. He then braces, pushing with all his weight against the heavy metal, britting his teeth to the point it hurts.
Hope flutters in his chest as he feels it slowly start to move forwards. More light filters in, and the space by the hinges grows to allow more in. But then as if he's hit a huge rock, the door stops moving, holding stubbornly in place like a horse refusing to be led.
Karma eases up, huffing as more frustration builds in his chest again. He tries once more, lodging his shoulder against the door. But it doesn't move. He sighs, pinning his ears. He hates how useless he feels, and how disappointed he is in himself at not being able to open the door.
He can feel his breathing pick up, his anger flooding his veins like thick sludge. He lets out a loud cry as he slams his body against the door, over and over, desperate to get it moving again. He can feel his body bruising, the throbbing pain down his bad leg worsening.
but the door not moving outweighs his pain. So he keeps going, bashing his body against the door, refusing to let up until something happens.
But nothing does.
Or, so he thought.
Through his ruthlessness and panicked despair, he doesn't notice the door actually moving, ever so slowly. More and more light breaks through into the darkness of the metal crate, but Karma's mind is too frantic to notice.
Until the door finally pops open, the momentum sending Karma flying forward with a startled cry, falling once more. But this time, it isn't onto the harsh metal of his crate. This time, he's falling into soft, albeit scratchy material, sending some of it flying as his body connects with the ground.
He lays there, sides heaving as he struggles to make out anything around him. His eyes burn against the sudden bright light around him, making it almost impossible to even take in anything around him.
He lays there for a few moments, allowing his heart to calm, and his lungs to catch up with the much-needed air. Finally, as he's somewhat calmed, he pushes himself to sit up, shaking his head to try and help clear the white spots in his vision.
And finally, he finally is able to register that he's escaped. He's finally escaped from his metal box.
Quickly he jumps up, stumbling on his lousy leg though managing to remain standing. Everything comes crashing back as his senses finally begin working again.
The heat from the harsh sun blared down onto his back, seeming to burn through his coat. The strange loose substrate beneath his hooves, tiny grains irritating and clumping around the wetness of his body. Digging to his skin and under his metal shoes.
His hearing slowly eases back, and with it, Karma can hear a strange crashing noise. Not like before, similar but not exactly. It's more gentle, almost relaxing.
And then there's the huge, green mass of nothing but vegetation in front of him, past the pale substrate as it fades into strange-looking grass. Tall trees with pale trunks and huge, wide leaves reach high over his head, so tall they appear to touch the bright blue sky above, swaying gently in the slow, warm breeze.
It carries the strong smell of salt and an overwhelming freshness that Karma has never experienced once in his three years of life.
As he follows the tall foilage up to the sky, he spots the dark outlines of what appears to be... birds? But they're huge! Gliding on thin curved wings, circling around Karma and his metal crate. Are they birds? Or are they some type of animal he's never encountered before?
He takes a few steps forwards, limping as he does so, his eyes still curiously looking up at the flying creatures. Slowly they lower towards him, and he can make out that they're white, or at least mainly white, though they have a wide patch of gray down their backs and over the tops of their wings.
They have feathers. So they have to be birds.
Right?
He locks eyes with one. It circles over him, pale eyes never leaving his. He watches as it opens its strange pointy yellow beak. And then one of the worst wounds Karma has ever heard comes screaming out from this flying thing.
Loud, screaming, and piercing Karma's ears, his body immediately goes into panic mode as he quickly flinches away from the noise. Are they circling him to hunt him? Are they hunting him?
He has to get out of here, has to run as far and fast as possible away from these bird impostors.
He whirls around, letting nothing but his instincts guide him as he races sloppily away, limping heavily on his injured leg. Despite his pain he runs, galloping quickly down the long stretch of pale, grainy sediment.
All he can see are blurs of color, green and blue mixing as one, disorienting him. The only thing he knows is the loud screaming from the flying monster in the sky. And no matter how hard he pins his ears against his head, he can still hear it. Like they're chasing him.
He can't even breathe, his lungs locking up, the air catching painfully in his throat. But he doesn't stop. He won't stop. Not until he knows he's safe, away from those things trying to hunt him.
If only his humans were here. They'd protect him, they'd keep him safe from those flying things. Maybe he shouldn't have left the safety of his crate after all. What if his humans had stored him away inside to keep him safe?
This place is nothing like where he was before.
Maybe he's doomed himself to being hunted down by escaping.
He's going to die here. Somewhere he's never even been, someplace strange with no sign of a human anywhere.
All he can do is run and run and run, hoping desperately that he can outrun them, even with his bad leg.
Suddenly he's crashing into something solid, completely stopping his thoughts and jarring his body as he's sent, once more, falling to the ground, the loose sediment splashing around him like water.
"Hey! What the HELL do you think you're doing brat!?"

----------------------
*References Used*

*Poses
-i.pinimg.com/564x/ae/22/56/ae2…

*Background
-None Used

Description

Word Count: 1,199
Activity: stat training-stam/speed-galloping
Season: Summer
Seasonal Prompt: --
Location: Kesera Tropics, beach
Herd Member(s): --
Lead Stallion: Karma's Cowboy
Gradually, Karma adds weight to his injured leg, testing it. Luckily it doesn't seem like he had broken anything. He still doesn't know what part of his body is actually injured, but at least it's not a broken bone.
Soon he faces the huge door again. His eyes roam from the hinges to the light, to the edges, and back to the hinges. Maybe if he breaks the hinges he'll be able to break out. Or he'd just ruin his chances of escape altogether. Plus, the door already appears broken. Maybe if he just tries kicking at it? Or pushing against it?
He glances down at his injured leg, still being favored. He opts for trying to push it open first.
Turning so he's on his good side, he situates himself up against the door with his muscles tense, and hooves planted against the floor. He then braces, pushing with all his weight against the heavy metal, britting his teeth to the point it hurts.
Hope flutters in his chest as he feels it slowly start to move forwards. More light filters in, and the space by the hinges grows to allow more in. But then as if he's hit a huge rock, the door stops moving, holding stubbornly in place like a horse refusing to be led.
Karma eases up, huffing as more frustration builds in his chest again. He tries once more, lodging his shoulder against the door. But it doesn't move. He sighs, pinning his ears. He hates how useless he feels, and how disappointed he is in himself at not being able to open the door.
He can feel his breathing pick up, his anger flooding his veins like thick sludge. He lets out a loud cry as he slams his body against the door, over and over, desperate to get it moving again. He can feel his body bruising, the throbbing pain down his bad leg worsening.
but the door not moving outweighs his pain. So he keeps going, bashing his body against the door, refusing to let up until something happens.
But nothing does.
Or, so he thought.
Through his ruthlessness and panicked despair, he doesn't notice the door actually moving, ever so slowly. More and more light breaks through into the darkness of the metal crate, but Karma's mind is too frantic to notice.
Until the door finally pops open, the momentum sending Karma flying forward with a startled cry, falling once more. But this time, it isn't onto the harsh metal of his crate. This time, he's falling into soft, albeit scratchy material, sending some of it flying as his body connects with the ground.
He lays there, sides heaving as he struggles to make out anything around him. His eyes burn against the sudden bright light around him, making it almost impossible to even take in anything around him.
He lays there for a few moments, allowing his heart to calm, and his lungs to catch up with the much-needed air. Finally, as he's somewhat calmed, he pushes himself to sit up, shaking his head to try and help clear the white spots in his vision.
And finally, he finally is able to register that he's escaped. He's finally escaped from his metal box.
Quickly he jumps up, stumbling on his lousy leg though managing to remain standing. Everything comes crashing back as his senses finally begin working again.
The heat from the harsh sun blared down onto his back, seeming to burn through his coat. The strange loose substrate beneath his hooves, tiny grains irritating and clumping around the wetness of his body. Digging to his skin and under his metal shoes.
His hearing slowly eases back, and with it, Karma can hear a strange crashing noise. Not like before, similar but not exactly. It's more gentle, almost relaxing.
And then there's the huge, green mass of nothing but vegetation in front of him, past the pale substrate as it fades into strange-looking grass. Tall trees with pale trunks and huge, wide leaves reach high over his head, so tall they appear to touch the bright blue sky above, swaying gently in the slow, warm breeze.
It carries the strong smell of salt and an overwhelming freshness that Karma has never experienced once in his three years of life.
As he follows the tall foilage up to the sky, he spots the dark outlines of what appears to be... birds? But they're huge! Gliding on thin curved wings, circling around Karma and his metal crate. Are they birds? Or are they some type of animal he's never encountered before?
He takes a few steps forwards, limping as he does so, his eyes still curiously looking up at the flying creatures. Slowly they lower towards him, and he can make out that they're white, or at least mainly white, though they have a wide patch of gray down their backs and over the tops of their wings.
They have feathers. So they have to be birds.
Right?
He locks eyes with one. It circles over him, pale eyes never leaving his. He watches as it opens its strange pointy yellow beak. And then one of the worst wounds Karma has ever heard comes screaming out from this flying thing.
Loud, screaming, and piercing Karma's ears, his body immediately goes into panic mode as he quickly flinches away from the noise. Are they circling him to hunt him? Are they hunting him?
He has to get out of here, has to run as far and fast as possible away from these bird impostors.
He whirls around, letting nothing but his instincts guide him as he races sloppily away, limping heavily on his injured leg. Despite his pain he runs, galloping quickly down the long stretch of pale, grainy sediment.
All he can see are blurs of color, green and blue mixing as one, disorienting him. The only thing he knows is the loud screaming from the flying monster in the sky. And no matter how hard he pins his ears against his head, he can still hear it. Like they're chasing him.
He can't even breathe, his lungs locking up, the air catching painfully in his throat. But he doesn't stop. He won't stop. Not until he knows he's safe, away from those things trying to hunt him.
If only his humans were here. They'd protect him, they'd keep him safe from those flying things. Maybe he shouldn't have left the safety of his crate after all. What if his humans had stored him away inside to keep him safe?
This place is nothing like where he was before.
Maybe he's doomed himself to being hunted down by escaping.
He's going to die here. Somewhere he's never even been, someplace strange with no sign of a human anywhere.
All he can do is run and run and run, hoping desperately that he can outrun them, even with his bad leg.
Suddenly he's crashing into something solid, completely stopping his thoughts and jarring his body as he's sent, once more, falling to the ground, the loose sediment splashing around him like water.
"Hey! What the HELL do you think you're doing brat!?"

----------------------
*References Used*

*Poses
-i.pinimg.com/564x/ae/22/56/ae2…

*Background
-None Used