You are walking upon a small dirt path through a field. A few trees dot the area but it is mostly grass. You lift your hand to shield your eyes from the great ball of fire in the sky. Scanning the area, you see a tree the is close by. Its large, with lots of shade beneath it. As you veer off the trail towards it, you start to see a rich chestnut equine. You watch her carefully. As you come closer, you can see she has wings. You are quite surprised and come closer. Reaching the mare, you gently tapped her withers. Opening her eyes, her cranium turns to inspect you. "What?" she hissed. You stare, you can't get the expressionless eyes out of your head. Coming to, you stammer, "May I rest here with you? I'm very tired. My name is guest." A sigh escaped her lips, "You may, and I am Airadale." Moving to the side of the mare, you slide down the tree trunk to sit on the ground. Airadale begins to doze off again. In your mind, all you can see are her eyes and you wonder, what made this beautiful mare become this way? Being your smart self, you asked right out, "What made you this way?" Her eyes opened , her head swung towards you. Moving, she planted herself over you. "You want to know what happened?" Flinging her long flaxen forelock up, a sawed off stub of her horn showed beneath. You gasp in horror. "Does that satisfy you?" she whispered as she shook her head to hide it.

Airadale had been born into a cruel world. The facility that was her birth place was a living h3ll. At this place they breed unis for their horns. They sawed them off and sold them on the black market. Here, was her first home. She lived with all the other mare and foals in one pasture and lived a healthy normal life. As always, they were weaned at the age of six months and where trained to saddle and lead. At two, they where ridden to be sold if not needed. At three Airdale's horn was superb. A wonderful color of gold and very strong. On a morning in late summer of her third year upon this earth, the haltered her and led her down a aisle. Airadale was nervous, she could smell fear in the air. The men led her into a squeeze shoot and undid her halter. There they forced her head to lay flat on a table. Airadale was terrified. As the man brought out a saw, she then realized what was to happen. Struggling to get free she couldn't. Excruciating pain erupted into her head. It was over. They released her in to the open plains to fend for her self. They couldn't have a hornless uni to be discovered. Blood poured from her has she ran. Running was all she could, she didn't know how to use her wings. Airadale ran until she couldn't go anymore. She finally stopped in this very field. Dropping to the ground, Airadale fell into a dreamless sleep. Over the period of a year, her horn healed but never grew back, she became sleek and strong. Airadale also taught her self how to fly. Keeping the field to herself and a few smaller animals, she called this her home.

Flaxen Mane and Tail

My Art

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