Mutiny

[lily]

Name: Mutiny
Age: 7 years
Breed: Friesian
Height: 16.1hh
Colour: Black
Eye Colour: Yellow
Gender: Mare
Markings: None

History:

Prologue-
So mares are useless? Is that really what you think?
Hmm. Interesting theory, I suppose.
–Scream-
That is what you thought eh? Did it do you well? Now, you’re lying there, my hooves dug deep into your very flesh.
Your blood, mixed with my sweet vengeance and your pathetic fear.
Oh, how you look so powerful- what was the word you used before? Arh…yes.
Regal?
–Scream-
What’s that? You think you were wrong?
–Silence-

Yes. I thought you were wrong too.


This is the ultimate tempest. A roaring demoness of the felonious villains that begin to crowd the world. She will lure you into a false sense of security, and then take you captive. Once your there don’t expect to be released. The alluring flicker of her prowess eyes, the seducing shifting of her hips. They will draw you in, like the countless stallions before. It is not something you can control. She has the ability to lock you into a place of fictional pleasure just before she breaks your soul and tortures your pitiful limbs. Mutiny will play with you, your nothing then a lifeless, ineffective, invisible creature that has been generated for her own amusement. Do not be fooled. You will end up dead.



Only a great betrayal allows her to kill her loyal servants, until that time if you prove of service to her you will remain durably unscathed. She is tremendously astute and sly, with an intelligence to match that of any elder. It will not bring you any good to cross her path without a strong sense of caution, and in any case do not try to dupe her. It will not work, and you shall be wishing that you never in counted her. If you wish to live a barely prosperous life with Mutiny, expect to be the underdog. Her naturally authoritive presence is something that nobody can possibly challenge.

Mutiny’s childhood was not the usual upbringing of a foal. To begin, she had no positive male figure in her life until the age of two years. Any male activity she saw was that of fighting or worse force-breeding. Her mother was a useless swine. She would not allow Mutiny too suckle when a youngster and feed her only when otherwise she would have surely perished. She would not give her cover in the harsh winter nights, leaving her to fend for herself against the scorching winds of ice and snow. Worse of all, she did not offer her daughter protection when she needed it most. Not even her older brother gave her that luxery. She had to learn to defend herself. The herd in which Mutiny had been born into, was warped and twisted version of any herd. Males would dispose of females at their pleasure- if they resisted them, they would be beaten until they begged for mercy. Naturally, such a thing happened to Mutiny, a countless amount of times. It is what first stirred her resentment for others.

It is somewhat disappointing, that Mutiny turned out the way that she has. For if she had been liberated, just that little bit earlier, then many lives could have been spared- including her own. Weeks, after Mutiny had been swallowed by the darkness of evil, a band of unusually compassionate two-legs humanly caught what was left of the disbanded horror herd and took them to a sanctuary, where many of them still live in peace and harmony. Mutiny is still out there. She had lost all hope, her mind muted with the coldness of power. Any good that once lay within the stunning raven mare has been tortured out of her. Lured and captured, through the fiercest means possible. She will ride to war in the coming months. Many times she will spread the blood of her sisters and brothers. Not the slightest show of remorse will come about.
It has not decided whether the curious thing that is, fate, will do with the mare. Yet it is certain that no good remains. It has all faded away into the mist.