GOTHiKA

It's too bright and colorful...
"It's too bright and colorful..." the lithe silver mare repeated aloud. Her dark eyes, deep and black as bottomless pits, gazed around the area in a totally uncaring manner. This place was too much of everything happy-- she wasn't a happy mare.

"I shouldn't have come here." she then stated to herself, taking a few steps to turn backwards, away from the tall grasses of bright colorations. It made her sick; or was it her that made herself that way? Stress filled the mare suddenly as she nearly knocked her head into a skinny tree trunk, but then it was overtaken by a quick, sweeping anger. Almost blindly, she struck out at it with her forehooves, scraping a bit of the smooth bark off. She then let out a frustrated breath and strode around to the back of it before moving onward, taking the scenery in. Few places were dark and dreary. Right now, of all times, she was truely craving some darkness. But, of course, everything was happy and free-going. Just Gothika's luck. Drawing in a deep sigh, she gave her mane a shake and stopped, at the very edge of a dark foresty area. "Yuck," she then said, observing the large and small holes of sunlight poking through the treetops. "Is there anywhere I can go to get away from this sunlight!?" she then nearly yelled out, getting clearly frustrated with this whole ordeal. Suddenly her auds drooped, and she lowered onto her belly, and then pushed off to the side with a gruff noise, folding her legs neatly for a rest. She began mumbling to herself, dark thoughts passing through, "... hate... --is place.."

GOTHiKA