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Storm Warning
Views 521  |  Comments 0  |  FileSize 147 KB  |  Dimensions 900 x 1350 pixels
Album Photomanipulations  |  Uploaded Jul 14, 2012
Time To Make 1-2 hrs
Breed Andalusian
There was a legend in the little valley that offered bountiful grass to the wild horses. It was one of tragedy and the alteration of the landscape around them. The legend had passed down from generation to generation and quite a few of the youngsters thought it was merely a myth and didn't hold any truth to it at all.
There had been a magnificent lead stallion his name long lost to the passages of time. The stallion had been a stern yet compassionate ruler. He had been wise in the ways of land and offered protection to any mares or young colts that strayed across his path. It had been a sunny day when the storm hit and the black clouds swallowed the blue sky in a hungry gulp. The stallion had been watching his herd from his favorite perch atop a large cliff that overlooked the waterfall in the distance. He had bellowed a warning to the mares below him, telling them to take cover and protect themselves until he could rejoin them.
As he carefully scaled his way down the steep mountainside he paused, ears flickering uneasily. The wind was howling through the crevices in the rock and it bit at his hide with loose gravel. An ear-splitting crack shook the air above him and the mountain trembled. It felt as though the very earth was coming to life and he swished his tail with trepidation as he continued on his way. The loud rumbling grew closer to him and he cast a backwards glance over his shoulder before freezing for the slightest second. The cliff on which he'd been overseeing his mares was tumbling down the mountain towards him! Knowing that to place his footing carefully would be time consuming and hence allow the rocks to catch him, he set off into a rocking canter. The stallion leaped over small boulders and the husk of a fallen tree as he raced down the treacherous path. He had almost made it when his right fore-hoof snagged on a piece of rock and sent him tumbling head over heels down the cliff-face. He didn't stop until he reached the bottom of the mountain. Normally if the stallion had taken that sort of misstep he'd be fine. His luck had run out this time though and he could only lay there panting heavily as the rocks raced down and joined him at the bottom of the mountain.
Both cliff and stallion had been lost to the fury of the storm...
They say that when a major storm was approaching from off in the distance, the stallion and his cliff would reappear in an effort to warn whatever soul was near the mountains..
A Thing Of Nightmares
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