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Hatred. Raw, burning, hatred. People who felt this knew how hard it was to take it, without it rubbing off on them. It creates a pure longing for the shelter of darkness. For people who feel the hatred of family members, despite they're saying that they loved them. It felt like a betrayal. It makes people do things most people would find horrible. But its just people trying to find an escape.
She knew more then most that people who felt hatred just want to rebel and do want they wanted. All she wanted to do was go to parties with friends and leave her house to do as she wished. But she was fifteen and constantly felt the burning hatred of her parents and siblings. She just wanted to cry herself to sleep and never wake up.
She often cut her arms to keep herself from losing her mind. I know what your thinking, poor girl, she should listen to her parent's, what's she thinking, shes disgusting yadda yadda. I know. But hatred can warp a person.
Twilight stood in the tree that hung over her camp. Her silver toed paws itched to run down and slaughter the cat she called leader.
The Black cat narrowed her eyes. She could do it to. She was Deputy, no cat would believe a deaf medicene cat. The cat she had looked up to and called Leader for so long had LIED. The old tabby that was slowly dieing in his den had lied to her all her life. She had always beieved she was Clan born, a loyal she-cat. A proud warrior of Thunderclan. But NO, she was the kit of a rogue. A rogue that still lived and whose son would be crueler than any cat in the twoleg place.
TwilightShade. Thaat was the black and silver toed she-cats warrior name. Her mother had named her Twilight. And her Leader TwoStar had taken pity on the starving rogue in the middle of Leaf-Fall, he took a kit that hadn't even opened it's eyes and brought it to another. The cat she had claimed was her mother for so long was SpottedWing. She was a beautiful white cat with grey spots dottin
TrustIt is said that the most heavenly wind. It that, which blows between.
A horses ears. I believe it. Any girl who has ridden a horse.
Will believe it. In the mornings. I wake up to the smell of horses.
Still in my nostrils from the dreams. And I can't help but smile.
When you've been around horses. Almost all you're life.
You can't help but think that horses have become apart of you.
As if it was some vital part of you're body. Like you're lungs.
Or you're heart. If you take horses away. You basicilly die.
When you're around horses. You feel as if nothing can stop you.
When you're riding through a jumping course. Or flying.
Through the tree's of a cross country course.
Or exicuting the correct movements of dressage.
You feel the bond with the horse beneath you. Strengthen.
The horse understands what you ask. And does so. Without question.
When you're heading to a competetion. And you're laughing and.
Sharing stories with you're friends. While riding with the horses.
The horses understand
Time Slows"Steady. Whatch for the jump....
Now!" Feeling the powerful animal under you.
Surge with strength as it makes the jump.
The feeling of time slowing as the critical
Moment passes over. No falts.
Turn leap. Four falts.
"That's okay. Come on we can make it"
Soothing the horse under you as it nickers
in frustration. Turn speed up.
"No!" Warning the black being as it heads towards
The wrong jump. It swerves akwardly. But you make the right jump.
The surge of pride as you and you're horse. Leap over the final fence.
Time slows again. Hoping beyond hope. That there won't be any falts.
You clear it. Gently slowing the cantering horse down.
Raising the hand holding the crop up high in victory. As the judge
Announces the time. Hearing you're team mates cheer as the horse rears up.
Patting the gentle giant with pride as you head to the stables.
Brushing the horse down with pride until his coat gleams in the dim light.
Taking pictures with you're mom and friends to remeber the great times.
The thrill of the leap
ask it too.
you had made.
It's the trust.
That you Share.
When it seems
The two of
you make it
Even though it seems that horses don't understand.
It's more then just the competition
The Way of Life intro. Book style!
A little kit. Black and tiny with a sandy kit and a golden kit on either side of her. And a caring silver mother curled around them, glowing with pride, Her ears pricked as a dark tabby stepped into the nursery from the yowls and claws outside, with a gleam in his eye. the silver mother lept forward launching at the tabby. Her kits tirred and the black one whispered something urgently into the others ears. They nodded and stared horrified as they watched they're mother get torn apart. Suddenly the black kit turned into an older cat with strong muscles and striped markings. Her face was bored and she snapped open her cold forebodeing eyes. A line split her face in two. One half her striped self. The other the same. But had a horrified and sad expression blood staining her coat.
A black she-cat rushed into the clearing and stood smiling over the body of a dead white cat. The striped cat smirked and nodded as she joined the ranks. The she-cat stood on a hill that was made of stone starein
Klacz NocyUsiądźcie posłuchajcie bajki
o kucyku co Noc wziął na swe barki
ten Kucyk trudzi się niezmiernie
abyście wy moi kochani mogli spać spokojnie
Bowiem w ciemności Nocy
czyha wiele strasznych Mocy
Dlatego Ona pełni Wartę
Gotów ochronić królestwo jej sercu tak drogie
Niczym Cień kroczy między Snami
By pomóc nam zmierzyć się z naszymi obawami
Gwiazdy i księżyc trzyma swymi kopytami
Luna - Klacz Nocy
Chroni nas od złej Mocy
Choć sama Zła kiedyś zasmakowała
to jednak została z niego oczyszczona
jednak zanim ta chwila nastąpiła
Wiele od swych koszmarów wycierpiała
Lecz to daje jej siłę
By obronić Equestrię
Nie lękaj się zatem Mroku kucyku
bo Ona zawsze jest u twego boku
Choć bystry wzrok nigdy jej nie wyłapie
to Ten kto ma serce marzeń pełne
Pride. It kills. It makes people do things they normally wouldn't. It makes them hard people to understand and know. It makes people stuck up, unbelievable. And most of all. Cold.
She knew that more then most people. She was a very proud girl, fourteen years old and already she was the least trusted member in her nieghborhood. All because she got into to many fights, ws to pridefull, and didn't take criticizm well.
She took hurtful words everyday from her enemies, friends and even her siblings. She just felt broken, but her pride wouldn't let her take anything, from anyone without returning the favor.
She sighed and turned from the magnificent view of the Colorado mountains. She walked back towards her house through the forest. She hurt. Mentally, she felt drained. Like coldness, hurt and rage was all that was left within her. She couldn't take much more. She wished her pride would release her.
So very much...
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More