Do you fear me now? [Notes]

[X-Dot]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=ccccd5] Powerful muscles rippled beneath Crowbait's painted bay coat as he plodded along the edge of the lake. His head and neck drooped slightly, his body relaxed. There were no enemies around and he wasn't in the killing mood today. His old burn scar as beginning to act up anyway, and it stung. "Seems like age is starting to catch up with me...." he mused out loud. He was 10 years old, a middle-aged man, and his body had taken more than its share of beatings in his life. He'd spent his whole life fighting. Even as a foal, he always played rougher than the other foals in the herd. But he'd always figured survival f the fittest. He'd been the only foal to survive the fire. The brute turned and faced the lake, a light breeze ruffling his ratty, war-torn coat. His pitiful mane swayed slightly in the breeze, his tail lashing at the flies on his hocks. His ears pinned to his head in irritation. He hated summer. All the damn flies targeted his wounds and it annoyed him. He drew his scarred leg up and kicked out as a twinge of pain snapped through it. Today was just an irritating day.

[Notes]

Notebellum

She was tired. Weary from her travels. Though she wished she could relax, she had always been so tense -- with all the right reasons. Notebellum didn't have much of a reason to eat or sleep or even drink regularly so when she came across any body of water, she wouldn't do anything than take advantage of the cool water and crisp, wet grass. Kalf Lake. One of her favorite places to go when she was young. But she was a foal then -- and a carefree one at that. Back then, she had no worries, no pain, no motivation to do anything but do what she wanted. Back then, as a yearling, she had no thoughts about what she would do when she was a worn out 5 year old mare. Though many wouldn't call her very old, pain and worry had aged her appearance. Her mane was matted. Her tail was tangled. Her ribs were visible against her mosaic coat. But today, she would fill up at the lake before leaving again.

The ground grew damp as the mare walked closer and closer to the lake. As she immerged from the trees, she saw an old memory with it's blue-grey water. Looking down at the water's reflection. She saw her matted chestnut mane in the lake before ruining the image by bending down her head to take a long drink. When a noise sounded nearby, the mare pricked her ears and turned her eyes to see a stallion near her at the edge of the lake. Picking up her head caustiously, she didn't speak but instead stared at the paint.