( Your Crimson Touch Is Going Nowhere )
Nimble, bone-like fingers lace themselves around the lock that keeps Ben in his stall, and with a small jerk, you rip the door that had black horse open. As usual, you step into a horse pen, and you have images of being dragged flash behind your eyelids, and you can almost feel the gashes and scrapes that scarred your right arm open again. Stepping into the small enclosure, you almost look like a ghost, pale skin and white beaded dress standing out against the dark shade that the animal in front of you was born to. A skinny, shaky, bony arm reaches up to his nose and pets him, assuring him that you are only there to lead him out to get ready for the show ahead of him and not hurt him (but you are secretly afraid he might hurt you). Hooking the lead rope onto him, you make a clicking noise with your mouth, beckoning him to come forward (and almost having to literally drag him, to which science proves the force of stick skinny legs and a full grown horse doesn't exactly match up). With the horse behind you, you lead him out of the stable, slightly shaking with a silent fear following with the horse.

Blue eyes navigate and guide you to your sister Shetty, who is in charge of making sure the horses are nice and pretty before the show begins to start. When your skinny body and the bulky horse appear in front of Shetty, who was busy combing through one of the horses brownish blonde hair that was like your hair color, she jumps when your silky, cold words leave your light pink lips, asking her where to leave Ben. She requests that you stay and just hold Ben for a little while longer (to which you purse your lips and raise a thin eyebrow to), as all there is left to do is to put on the riding equipment (and she does her job incredibly fast). But to be honest, if you had a choice, you would have dropped the lead rope and booked your petite self out of there. And its funny really, because you belong to a family who's lives revolve around horses, yet you are scared to even get close to one.

( True Pain Was All You Ever Meant )
With the blank expression on her face that always radiates her natural iciness, she sat at the dinner table with her hands clasped together as she watched the others eat, glaring daggers at everybody (except Shetty, who hasn't exactly wronged her in any way), but especially Freisa, who looked a little tired after the show she had done about an hour ago. Arden breathed heavily out her nose and rolled her eyes, twirling her fork around some noodles at she stole glances at her sister with distaste. Her hate for her radiated in her every time she looked at her, seeing the way their father always praised her with high honors. Then there was Arden, who was left bitter and uncaring because of the favoritism that was played so much in the family. It was almost funny to Arden that the people in the audience didn't know that everyone is unhappy in the family, but most especially a girl that they had never seen before.

When everybody else had left the kitchen and it was just Freisa and Arden alone, she broke the silence with a pair of eyes and a smile that had a niceness you could fake without any second thought. "So, Freisa, are you tired after the show?" Freisa raised her eyebrows at her plate and nodded, beginning to clean up after her mess and almost about to leave the dining room and go into the kitchen "And I bet you are very very tired after fooling around with those boys after the show." Freisa paused, looking back at her little sister with narrowed eyes and a look of "I could stab you right now." "How do you know about that?" Arden smiled and slightly narrowed her eyes, and after a couple of seconds, broke out into a low, dangerous, icy laugh. She looked up at Freisa with a look that indicated that she was holier-than-thee and she knew that if the time came right, she could blackmail Freisa. "Oh, please, Freisa. Don't you know that I am the most intelligent person in this family?" she said with some arrogance.

"You may think you are cool shit, being furtive and deceitful to our parents, but you can't fool me. I'm too clever. Besides, it really isn't even that hard to follow you. At least try to be discreet. You make it too easy for me," you drawled sarcastically, taking in the expression on her face. Leaving her with those words, you snatch your plate and a book that is always on your person, which you use to try and show everyone you are more intelligent than everyoneand dump the plate in the sink, but as you walk away, Freisa grabs your shoulder, sticking a finger in your face. "Arden, you will not tell anybody about this." Aggressively slapping her wrist out of her face, you shoot right back at her. "Fine. But know that one day, I just might blackmail you. You know how I am. I'm a manipulator and you best remember it. Now if you excuse me, I want to go read." With a dignified look on your face, you smile, and walk away, long fingernails digging into the leather on the book.



( Sink Your Teeth Into This Nightmare )
At a relatively young age, you knew you were different. When your parents carried you out into the stable and you saw one of the first glimpses of what your entire family revolved around, you felt tears sting your eyes and you began screaming and crying. Your parents were more than confused. Wasn't it every little girls dream to ride a horse? Why weren't you like your siblings? The siblings who loved horses as much as the Capitolites who came to the show did? That was a question nobody could seem to answer, and with slumped shoulders and smug faces, they accepted that you were different, and there was nothing that they could do about it. At least, for the time being.

Leading up to the event at age six, you were still very much afraid of the creatures that surrounded you everyday, not wanting to come out for shows, instead staying in your room to play dress up and dolls while your siblings and parents were a short ways away commanding the majestic beasts that entertained the Capitol and filled them with wonder. Eventually, your parents decided that they should at least try and make you normal and fit it and if they were lucky, actually make you a part of the show once you 'discovered how amazing horses are', or so your parents theorized.

So there you were, a six year old Arden, sitting on the back of one of the horses the family had earlier in your life, shaking fiercely and begging your mom, pleading 'please, please, let me down, I don't want to ride, no, please' to which your father would call across the field on his own horse 'no, if you are going to be part of this family, you will learn how to ride'.

Your mother gave you the reins in your hands and told you to hold on tight, told you to stick your feet in the stirrups, and keep your back straight and look ahead and so you obeyed, thinking that if you just did what the woman said, you would be done with this sooner (but because of the obvious tears in your eyes, your mother planned to keep you on for awhile to see if you would begin to lighten up about the situation). So after awhile of doing what she told you to, you eventually stopped the horse, begging your mom if you could just get off, when suddenly, you felt a tug under you and the reins pulled from your grip and the horse suddenly went into full gallop. In pure, sheer panic, you attached yourself to the animal's neck, but as a horse moves pretty much every part of its body when it's in a sprint, it was pretty hard to hold on to, so you ended up falling over the side, but with your terrible luck that day, your foot caught in the stirrup and you were dragged for a short distance. Your foot and the stirrup eventually broke apart, and you were left on the ground, severe cuts on your right arm and hip (after your shirt rode up and allowed gravel to have at it) and a broken rib. But along with the scarring that covered your arm and hip and the bone that broke in the event, you were also left with a more concrete fear of horses.

Opting to not spend your time around the animals (and your family), you secluded yourself in your room even more than before, dedicating yourself to the pages of a book (only after you sent the costumes and dolls packing at the age of 7). By the age of 9, you had read every single book the Ferde family owned to their name cover to cover and yearned for something other than the books you already had that you could rest your sharp blue eyes upon. Your family, tired of you shoving yourself in your room, tried to make you a bit more outward by forcing you to attend their shows that were hosted, but you just saw it as a chance to sneak out the back and book it to the library, where you would grab a couple of old, leather bound stories and check them out, running with the spine crushed in your spindly fingers to make it back to the tent before the show was over and your parents noticed.

At the age of 11, you had grown to be extremely intelligent and cold, turned bitter by the feeling of abandonment when you felt your parents favored Friesia only because she was the star of the show. Of course, you also felt a little bit of ill will to Andal, but never hated him as much as your sister and tolerated him. Your parents (who you also despised), who decided to make you do something productive taught you about finances and gave you some bills and told you that it was your job from there on out to take care of them, and, intelligent girl you are, it was easy to do it and it was something you could do in mere minutes.

Now, at the current age of 14, you developed into a mature young woman who is intelligent and isn't afraid to tell it to the nearest person, paying the bills and taking care of other various finances. Just as you are intelligent, you are also cold, a flat tone taking its normal place in your voice every time your lips part to speak, but sometimes mixed with some blunt sarcasm that you make sure pierces the person the words are aimed at. This tone of voice is almost always aimed at Friesia, who you still have a strong dislike for (a dislike that is almost as strong as your dislike for horses). Now, you just live out your days paying the bills, reading, hissing at Friesia, trying not to run away in fear at the sight of a horse, and fighting Teke and Criolo for your books, trying to hold yourself together.



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