Hey People of FanFiction. This is the first story I have every let anyone see. I don't really like people to read what I write; I write for myself, not others, but if anyone has any constructive criticism that would be great. I have no editor so I apologize for grammar and/or spelling mistakes.
P.S. If you don't like it, don't read it. :)
I don't own Twilight or Edward or Carlisle or Esme...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Prologue~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dr. Cerlizle! Mrs. Ethme!" John's heavily accented voice sounds loud from downstairs. It's still dark; the sun hasn't even thought about rising. That can mean only one thing. Wildfire's dropping her foal! I jump out of bed, pulling on my jeans and boots. I tiptoe out of my room and peek over the banister. My parents and John are having a rather animated conversation. Mom glances up and, shaking her head, smiles at me. I smile back and race down the steps into her arms. "Wildfire?" I whisper.
"Wildfire," she whispers back, pulling a jacket over my night shirt. She takes my hand and we make the short walk to the barn. Inside the barn is warm and the dim light seems bright compared to the darkness outside. We stop outside the first stall and wait for Dad to give us the word. Finally, after an undeterminable amount of time, he calls me in.
I peer into the stall and what I see will be ingrained in my memory forever. Wildfire is a tall chestnut mare with a wide blaze running the length of her elegantly dished face. In her day she had been one of the best endurance horses in the entire world. She was Dad's baby until a few years ago, when he retired her as a broodmare. She is standing in the far corner, her head lowered toward the small bundle sprawled near her hind leg.
The foal has a light copper body and a large mop of jet black hair running down its neck and its tail is the same dark black. Closer inspection tells me that the little ball of legs is a girl. I have seen many foals before but she is very different. Wildfire, like all the other horses here at Sugar Mill, is a pure-bred Arabian. Dad wanted to try something new and breed his most prized mare to a magnificent bay Morgan.
The filly's legs are long, thin and straight; her back small with medium sized withers. Her nostrils are large and she has typical enormous foal ears. She pulls away from Wildfire's udder and we lock gazes. Her face has a slight dip and a drop of white is smeared on the tip of her muzzle. An oblong star peeks out from under her forelock, reaching to the start of the dish. Her eyes are the same liquid brown as her mother's and I can't help but whisper "Angel."
"What was that son?" Dad asks, breaking our connection.
"Angel, I want to call her Angel."
He smiles gently, nodding, "Ok son." He pats me on my shoulder and walks to the house, leaving me alone with Angel and Wildfire.
Not the best, I know. I'm not claiming to be an author of anything good, I just like to write.
Have a wonderful day people of FanFiction.