Night and I continued grazing silently. Finally, she looked at me and asked, “How’d you sleep? Fine?”
I looked back at her and said, “No dreams. How ‘bout you.”
She replied, saying the same, then our softhoof (human) came and fetched us. It was time to walk around so that herbs could grow so softhooves to eat. It was another simple, peaceful day. In the distance, we heard the sharpteeth (dogs) chase around the sheep. After the trail had been walked, we settled down in the stable to have a midday nap. I relaxed to the sound of horses munching on there food. A few softhooves came in with strange items dangling around their necks. The softhooves would grab their strange items. Whenever the softhooves wanted, their strange items would shoot out a dazzling light; then the softhooves would point their massive, bulky light-guns (cameras) at a different horse. I didn’t want to get shot by those evil-looking things! My breath was getting heavy. I flinched away, crashing into the wall. The stable shook. I kicked the wall and it started crashing to the ground! My haunches were pinned down. The softhooves screamed in pain, agony, fear, and distress. The lucky horses clippity-clopped away, leave the stable in dust.
“This is the end,” I thought.
Before I could moan my thoughts, the boards shifted. I was free! I dashed into the woods, one of the softhooves yelling at me. The woods were a scary, barren place at this time, but they were the only place to refuge. Here, I would lie safe from the strange, light-gun-carrying softhooves. As I walked through the forest, sprouts and late snow crunched under my hooves. I heard a growl and stopped dead in my trackes, breathing heavily. I heard the sound of sharptooth-like animals fighting. My heart stopped. Then I heard…another scared horse! I ran straight to the sound, it was Night!
She cried for joy, and yelled my name. “Spring!” she cried.
I cried for her and we nuzzled eachother. Then, all of a sudden, the vicious beasts that looked skeptically like wolves ran at us – and they were not happy. Silently, Night and I ran to safety. We ran and ran – straight in to the arms of our owners. They hugged us. We were given a new home and a good meal.
It was another normal day.
This was an assignment included in RTWkid’s Art History curriculum in which Edvard Munch was studied:
Pick one of the paintings other than The Scream or The Storm and write a short story, ideally 2 pages, definitely no more than 4 pages. The painting becomes the illustration and/or book cover of the story.