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Kysa's Music Codes -invalid_words-
The Meadow

You inhale slowly, letting the fragrances of the meadow fill your senses. All you can see for miles and miles is this long and beautiful field, its kneehigh grasses waving in the breeze. You sink deeper into the grass and close your eyes. You hear nothing except the sway of the grass, the croaking of frogs in a nearby spring, the birds quietly coursing to each other, the…. "Who are you?" You jolt in surprise and your eyes fly open. A dark red filly stands above you, her head titled slightly.
Slowly sitting up you look for who spoke, "I asked who you were human." The voice repeats with a slightly steeled tone. You look in the direction the voice came from but all you see is the horse blinking slowly at you, its horn slightly lowered. This time your jaw drops as you see the mare speak, "Why are you staring and not answering?" Spluttering slightly you hasten to say, "guest"
Satisfied that she has a name to the face the mare smiles. "Nice to meet you. Why have you come to our herdlands?" You tilt your head in confusion and look around the meadow, "Herdlands? I didn't know that this belonged to anyone." She smiles again, "It only belongs to us because the earth placed us here. Other than that this is free land." "Free?" You repeat slightly dumbfounded. "Yes. Free from the hands of those who will abuse it." "And why's that?"
The mare looks at you as though you are a young child, "Because of a battle that went on long ago. Maybe before you were born. Would you like to hear it?" Her tail swishes in eagerness. "Sure!" You respond happily. As the mare begins her story you settle deeper into the grass and close your eyes. The story soon comes to life behind your eyelids.

.:The Legend:.

Legend tells of a small filly whom was called Sienna. Determined in spirit. Strong in form. Stories tell of her thorn sharp horn the color of gold, her coat that gleamed the very shade of blood. The legends say she was much smaller than her comrades. Yet she could outrun them by miles. Yet out of all the legends, one stands out in particular. It is the one of the same young filly who followed her dreams.
.:The Denial:.
So the legend goes, she wanted to be a warrior more than anything else. But young Sienna was denied this great honor due to her small stature. Though her life dream was destroyed, she didn't sulk. She held her ground and attempted to fight her way to reach the status of Warrior. Yet the council laughed at her determination and, instead, placed her in the charge of the foals.
.:The Task:.
Disgruntled but not heartbroken, she dutifully watched and protected the newborns. Though the young were hardly ever under attack, she still remained under constant vigilance. But she continued to dream of the fight. Sienna was often spotted staring upon the battlefield from the cliff where the foal's area was. She would listen to the clash of horns, the irritated flapping of wings, and the thud of fallen bodies. As she would listen, the legends says, her heart would pound so loud that anyone nearby would be able to hear it.
.:The Enemy:.
It is said that one day as she watched over the sleeping foals, an enemy stallion approached her. The stallion, Vegas, was the leader of the attacking army. He was said to be a powerful stallion with a coat as black as the night, a horn as silver as the moon, and eyes that burned like fire. Vegas' black coat was littered with scars from past wars. The one above his eye was said to make him look angry all the time, thus adding to his power.
Vegas approached Sienna, but she instantly saw that she was not his target. She could see in his fiery eyes that he was going to kill the young foals who were destined to be incredibly powerful future warriors. He was bent on ruining the herd's future defenses. Sienna could have run. She could have saved herself. It is said that instead she stood as still as a statue and as he rushed her, she defended the foals.
.:The Battle:.
The clashing and pounding was said to echo throughout the entire valley. An onlooker would have seen a blood red mare fighting hard against the night black stallion as the foals lay petrified on the ground nearby.
It is said that the battle raged for a whole moon. Until one day the pounding and clashing came to a sudden halt. It is said that the last sounds that echoed through the valley was a high pitched whinny and the thud of one fallen body. The war ceased within that second as all heads turned to the cliff. It is said that not one horse moved. Not one dared to breath.
.:The Victory:.
It is said that when he fell, Sienna wasn't even out of breath. It is said that the second she walked out on the cliff to face the staring horses, a courus of whinnies erupted across the land.
Legend tells of a small filly whom was called Sienna. Determined in spirit. Strong in form. Who became a powerful mare who fought many bloody battles, and never lost. Who finally achieved her dream, to become a warrior.

The Filly
The filly ends her story with a wisk of her tail. "So Sienna did it. She became a warrior?" You ask, your mind still entangled in the story. The oddly marked female nodded her head and smiled. You shakily get to your feet, shaking off the grass and dirt sticking to your jeans. When you look up you see that the mare has turned to leave. "Wait! Is Sienna still alive?" You ask tentatively. The female turns her head and smiles, "You should know. You're looking at her." With that the mare reared up and galloped across the meadow, the long grasses dancing around her legs.