Some Writing From a Long Time Ago

This is a piece of writing that I did in primary school, and I'm fairly sure that I haven't worked on it since then. There are actually two versions of it. I'm going to put the first version in this post, because it's shorter and I think it's the better of the two. In the second story, the first paragraph is the same (it's a prologue) but then there is Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, which aren't as good as the second paragraph of this version. I realise that it overuses adjectives and adverbs etc. but it's quite fun, and as I was between 9 and 12 when I wrote it, it's actually quite good in the grand scheme of things, or at least I always thought so. Enjoy, ♥Nancy♫

The brilliant white stallion rose upon his strong hind legs, and he called to the mare as the treacherous waters lapped at her hoofs. Many equilibristic worms tried to bite the mare’s feet as she jumped to avoid the harsh salt water. Suddenly, the stallion plunged into the deep waters, and swam with all his strength and courage to the little island where the mare was. Avoiding the poisonous sea worms, he urged her around them and swam with her as they struggled to reach the shore. The cuts that ran all down the mare’s side sent streaking rays of blood into the dark stinging waters. It attracted a ravenous shark, which snapped the horse’s heels as they ran up the beach. Swiftly they galloped; going as fast as their weak legs could take them. Cyclonic winds pushed them back, but they could not stop until they reached the safety of the herd. Suddenly a wolf let out a piercing howl, which could mean only one thing – it was ready to hunt. On and on they ran, made hasty by the approaching danger. They entered a familiar rocky valley; the sweet smell of grass and other horses slowed them down, yet the cry of a hungry wolf still hung in the air. A snapping of teeth stopped them in their tracks. Wolves growled all around them and the stallion called to the mare, as if saying, “Go, you must save yourself.” So the mare ran off, leaving the stallion to handle the wolves. Hours later, the wolves, already weak from hunger and now weaker still from injury, left the dying stallion and went to find another helpless creature for prey.

It was many moons before the mare saw her rescuer again, and even then, she wished she hadn’t. The mare, whose name was Gentle Heart, stood on the top of High Cliff. She looked out over the beautiful country. She thought that nothing could ruin her euphoric feeling – after all, just one moon ago she had brought a healthy new colt into the world. But she was wrong. The sound of wolves howling drew her attention into the valley. She saw Swift Foot rear up, and struggle against them. But the wolves were too strong, and too many. Gentle Heart watched as the wolves tore at his flesh. She rose up onto her strong hind legs, and called out. But there was nothing that any animal could do. Shakily, she walked but down to where the herd was grazing. She told Night Rider what had happened, and she, in turn, told Black Skies. Black Skies was the exact opposite of Swift Foot. Of course, he had the speed and the strength, but he was a cruel horse. He thought only of himself. But now that Swift Foot was dead, Black Skies would be the leader of the herd. Gentle Heart realised that the herd was no longer a safe place any more. Swift Foot had always kept her safe, but his death meant that an unwelcome change was on the way.