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Do you support the police? 

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3 deviants said Only if they are Oath Keepers
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Ancient-Hoofbeats's Profile Picture
Ancient-Hoofbeats
Anonymous ;)
Artist | Student | Varied
United States
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.: Read the comments :. Stamp by Beti-Kot
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My Stock Account: Ghost-Rebel-Stock

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SOmething people need to understand about me right off the bat: I AM A GRAPHIC DESIGN STUDENT and a MIXED ARTIST! Yes I have a LOT of photos and lit but that's because when I started here on DA, that's all I did. Now I'm shifting into more of the traditional and Design elements!

I support ALL of the US Military branches, WITHOUT the politics of war.
I run 8 clubs on DA, including American Rebel Club and Hero Rebellion International (aka HRC).
I am a photographer, writer/poet, digital artist, and I feature aproximately 200 artists a month (deviantART news articles).
I have been horseback riding for 19 years and teaching it to kids for 6 years!
I am very interested in learning about other cultures and religions.
I am an artist of MANY talents, and highly involved in the community.
I do NOT tolerate: stalkers (I have over 25 now), cyberbullies (I have blocked over 50 so far), porn freaks or porn art, disrespectful talk toward my beliefs (although I am pretty peaceful these days), nor threats of ANY kind.

Some of my heroes/heroines include:
Moonbeam13, DreamingMyth, DancesWithHorses (now deceased), and Apophis906.
As you can see, I have MANY friends here.
Please be respectful to me, and I will TRY to be respectful towards you.

Thanks for visiting my site! :)
:heart:


Current Residence: Pegasus Galaxy!....oh wait, you meant on earth?, deviantWEAR sizing preference: Medium, Favourite genre of music: Celtic Spirit; Christian Rock; Christian Rap; TRICKY TRICKY (Radio Edit), Favourite photographer: unknown, Favourite style of art: ...LIVING HOPE!!! www.lhbustrip.com, Operating System: Windows XP, MP3 player of choice: I guess it'd be Audiovox., Shell of choice: selling seashells by the seashore...uh bullet-proof vests/pants, Wallpaper of choice: Horses; SG-1/SGA; other Sci-Fi; Third Watch; MILITARY!;EMTs; JOHN DOE, Skin of choice: mine i guess....although snakeskin is kinda chewy., Favourite cartoon character: Filmore; Spirit; Donald Duck; Recess, Personal Quote: The greatest movements in history started with just one voice.
Interests

Do you think the government is doing a good job overall? 

60%
3 deviants said No
20%
1 deviant said Yes and No
20%
1 deviant said No way in hell!
0%
No deviants said Yes
0%
No deviants said I'm too afraid to answer

Activity


Sirens wailed like the moans of the dying, waking all from their deep sleep to the sudden realization hell had risen in a violent uproar from the earth. Rumbles followed the noise, with waves of trembling earth and sky, as if the world fit inside a Christmas box that a little kid had picked up and shook to see what's inside. Then came the tremendous BOOM of an explosion at a nearby chemical plant, that riccochetted through the neighborhood and filled the early morning grim with a blinding light. Darkness followed like a cloak, enveloping the land with a moment of uneathly dead silence. Time seemed to have stopped for a moment, stuck between shock and a reality no one truly wanted to wake up to. Then came the agonized screams.

Bolting awake at the first sound of the sirens, a father of four glanced at his sleepy wife next to him, then at the window where red and blue lights shimmered on the glass. “The kids.” The thought popped into his head even as he was throwing off the covers and reaching for his taclight. His wife stirred awake next to him, startled awake by his sudden movement.
“Jake? What's going on? Where are you going?” Her words were still slurred with sleep but he could hear the anxiety in her voice.
“I don't know.” He answered truthfully. “Something's not ri—” His voice was cut off by the sound of rumbles and the ground shaking beneath his feet. He grabbed at the bed to stead himself as the whole house shook violently. His wife screamed, her eyes wide with fear.
Within minutes, the earth stopped shaking. Jake stumbled over items that had fallen from shelves and a drawer that had come out of one of the mahogony dressers by the door. He was about to reach for the door when an obscenely bright flash of light filled the night sky and his room, followed by an ear-splitting screaching that made him duck for cover. The house shook again with the impact of the explosion, and shards of glass flew everywhere, accompanied by a stinging heatwave. Then there was dead silence, as if nothing existed, as if he was dead. An overwhelming sense of dread and fear reminded him that he was still very much alive.

Screaming from outside his house and the cries of his children from within, brought him out of his stupor. Scrambling for the door once more, he reached for his go-bag as he navigated the fallen furniture. He could hear his wife behind him, hurrying to find their kids and praying out loud that they were all okay. As he swung the door open, he could see a flashlight bobbing down the hallway, where his son usually slept.
“Daddy?” His son was alive.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Jake asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
“My arm hurts a little,” His son said, showing a scratch from some glass that was bleeding a little. “But we're okay...we,” he motioned to two of his sisters standing with him “..we hid under the bed when the ground started to shake.” His voice was trembling, but Jake could tell he was trying to be brave. Two of his daughters peeked out from behind his son, each holding a stuffed animal tightly.
“Where is your younger sister?” Jake asked. “Where is Lily?”
His son looked down, as if embarassed that he hadn't protected her too. One of the sisters spoke up “We woke up to the sirens and got scared when the ground started to shake and we went to find him and ended up hiding under the bed with him. We couldn't find Lily and we thought she was with you and mom and..and..” She started to cry.
“It's okay hunny.” Her mom cooed gently to her, hugging her tightly. The little girl cried harder, and clung to her mom's shirt. “It's okay.” Her mom rubbed her back and looked up at Jake with pleading eyes.
Jake motioned to his son to go back into his room. “Remember those backpacks I made you guys pack a little while back?” His son nodded with wide eyes. “Stay with mom and your sisters, and help them pack whatever food and water you guys can pack into those bags, okay?” Jake ordered, as he approached his youngest daughter's room, already motioning to his wife to take the kids down to the kitchen. He knew Lily had been feeling a little sick the night before and had chosen to sleep with the windows open for the breeze. He was afraid of what he would find and didn't want his wife to see it. After making sure she could get down the stairs safely with them, he opened the door with his youngest daughter's name stenciled on it in pink and walked in cautiously. Glass crunched under his feet and he was glad he'd pulled on his combat boots. Although the windows had been open, they had still shattered all over the floor from the impact of the heatwave that followed the explosion. At first, he looked at the bed where she usually slept but, finding it empty, his eyes moved across the room, searching for her. When his eyes found her lifeless body by the window, his heart stopped. He realized she must have been looking out the window to find the source of the sirens and, because the windows had been open, she would have caught the full brunt of the wave. Dread filled his mind as he stepped closer and reached out to check her heartbeat. Her skin was pale and blistered, with pus oozing out. Every bare inch of skin was covered in chemical burns. Shards of glass were also embedded in her skin and face, and he knew he'd have to take some of them out before he could move her.
“Stay with me Lily...please stay with me, baby girl.” Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, and he could hear her gasping for air. She couldn't even cry in pain because she couldn't breathe from the chemicals that had been in that wave, he realized.
Tears flooded from his eyes and he wiped them away with a sleeve, ordering himself to stay calm so that he could help her. All of his training for this moment kicked in with a vengance, and he methodically did what he could to help her.
Quickly, he swept as much of the glass shards away from her body as he could, then grabbed a one of the thicker blankets from her bed and lay it on the ground next to her. He then carefully rolled her over onto it, making sure there weren't any glass shards in the way. Kneeling down on the edge of the blanket, he pulled his go-pack to his side and grabbed the headlamp from the front pocket and put it on, then grabbed the tweezers out of his first-aid kit. Lily's eyes weren't staying focussed for very long and she seemed to be passing in and out of conciousness. “This is going to hurt a lil baby, but I have to do it.” He told her. No response. She still didn't say anything or even cry when he pulled out shard after shard. The only sound from her was the ragged wheezing.
As soon as he was done, he wrapped her up in the blanket, careful not to touch the blisters which seemed to pop and ooze on their own, and scooped her up in his arms. The stairs were difficult to go down with his daughter in his arms, as a few of the stairs had been warped by the initial earthquake and didn't seem sturdy, but he ran down them anyways, eager to get his daughter to the nearest hospital as soon as possible.
“Daddy?!” One of his daughters cried out from the foot of the stairs at the sight of her younger sister. “Daddy, is Lily..is she..?”
“No, hunny, she's not dead but...” Jake looked up at his wife with the same pleading eyes she'd given him earlier. “Get them as far away from here as you can, somewhere safe...contact our friends in Houston. I'm going to take Lily to the hospital.” He told her, even as he was rushing out to the truck. He knew that if he saw the panic in his wife's eyes that he would loose it right there, and he couldn't loose it, not yet...he had to get Lily to the hospital...she had to live.

Between the emergency vehicles going every-which way on the now-uneven road, and avoiding downed trees and crashed vehicles, driving to the hospital proved difficult, but he'd be damned if he just gave up. He loved his kids more than anything in the world, and he had to try...she couldn't die..“Please God, not yet..” He prayed aloud.
Glancing away from the road for a moment, he noticed her eyes were closed and her breaths were coming in short, uneven gasps now. “Lily? Lily, please wake up.” His voice was strained, heart in his throat. He rubbed her sternum, wishing she would open her eyes. “Lily? Baby, please wake up!” He struggled to keep from crying, terrified that he was loosing his little girl. Red flashing lights illuminated the raindrops on his windshield as he pulled into the emergency bay of the local hospital. Not wanting to wait for someone to come out, he turned off the engine, and climbed out, leaving the door open as he rushed to the other side of the truck and scooped up his daughter in his arms. Her skin felt cool against his and the pit in his stomach grew into an ocean, threatening to swallow him from the inside out. “Please wake up...” He begged as he cupped her to his chest and ran through the open doors, into the ER lobby.
Startled nurses took one look at the limp, burned body in his arms and hurried over with a stretcher. A woman with dirty-blond hair and light green eyes covered the little girl's nose and mouth with an oxygen mask, as they begin wheeling her away to somewhere else. Lily's lips and small fingers were turning blue, and she was barely able to breathe. “We're going to have to intubate her.” The woman said, as she motioned to another nurse to handle the terrified father who was trying desperately to stay at his daughter's side.
“Sir,” A male orderly said, as he tried to pull the father back into the waiting room. Two officers stepped forward uneasily, to assist. “Sir, you're going to have to wait out here.”
“Get OFF of me! That's my daughter! You have to let me be with her!” Jake growled angrily, trying desperately to pull free. When he almost  punched the orderly, one of the officers bear-hugged him, but let go when Jake collapsed in tears to the floor. The second officer put his hand on the first officer's shoulder and said something to his partner, who backed off and took the orderly to the side to discuss finding a room for the worried father to wait in. TV's flashed in the background with news of what had happened early that morning. Nurses, doctors, and civilians alike pressed close to hear the rumors that were floating around—as if the government would actually tell the truth. The reporters were saying that a massive earthquake that had struck Texas and 8 other states had likely caused the chemical plant explosion, which then blasted miles and miles of houses with a thick, toxic plume of chemical smoke and haze. His daughter had been one of the many thousands of victims. And now...he shuddered. Now she might be one of the hundreds of fatalities. The overwhelming anxiety filled his mind, and he tensed his shoulders, ready to strike out at something, at anyone, who got between him and his daughter. But there was nothing he could do, and that was the worst feeling of all.
“Stand down, Soldier.” The second officer said gently to the father, placing a hand on his shoulder and kneeling down slowly next to him. “It's okay...she's in good hands here.” His voice seemed to soothe Jake, who simply wept with his head in his hands. “Shalom, brother. Remember: God has control over all of this.” The officer squeezed the father's shoulder gently.
A woman's cry made both men glance up to see Jake's wife running over. “She's..she's not...she can't be...please please...” The woman cried, looking first at her husband, then at the officer with tearful eyes. “Please, not my baby...”
The officer understandingly shook his head and said “No, ma'am...not dead. The doctors are doing everything they can to save her life. It's in God's hands now.”
“Sam.” The officer turned at the sound of his name. “We have a room for them to wait in.” His partner said quietly. A woman in a pink nursing uniform stood behind him, waiting with a teddy bear in her hands.
Sam looked back at the grieving couple and said “There's a room set up for when your daughter gets out of the OR. You can wait there for her, okay?” He spoke softly, as if the air itself was too fragile for loud noises right then.
Jake simply nodded; the mother spoke timidly. “Okay..” They followed Sam and the nurse down two long hallways, past rows of doors where other critical patients lay with respiratory issues and similar burns, past crying families and bodies covered in white sheets, up two elevator stops to the Children’s Ward, to Room 4.
“You can wait here.” The woman spoke for the first time, her voice soft and soothing. Handing the teddy bear to the him, she said “This is for when she comes out.”
When. The word rang in his head, but it took him a minute to process that there was a “when.” Another nurse, older with streaks of grey in her dark brown hair pulled back into a simple braid, was wrapping his wife in a warm blanket.
“Here you go, sweety.” She had the grandmother-type of voice, the kind that could put any anxiety to rest. She squeezed his wife's hands in reassurance. “She's a tough fighter, your daughter. Have faith.” His wife just nodded, staring blankly at the door as if willing her daughter to walk through at any minute.
“I want my daughter...I want my girl.” She sobbed. The father wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest as he too stared at the door.
“I know...I know, Jess.” He cooed.

Hours had passed since Jake had brought his daughter in with severe chemical burns on much of her body. Hours. But time had come to a standstill, and the rain seemed to last forever. He hardly noticed as the morning light filtered in through the hallway windows. The hospital had been far enough away from the plant, that the explosion hadn't knocked out these windows.
A squeaking of a hopsital gurney from down the hall startled him, and he had to catch himself so that he didn't wake up his wife. She needed her sleep. He looked up to see the doctor in the doorway, motioning for him to step finto the hallway so they could talk. Jake tiptoed out of the room and gently closed the door behind him. Fear, dread, anxiety filled his head, throat and stomach as he looked into the doctor's tired, sad eyes. “Please...no...” He begged, as if the doctor had more control over it then God.
“She made it through surgery...” He let those words sink in for a moment, before continuing.
A mix of relief for the fact that she was still alive, followed by dread for the doctor's next words, threatened to drown Jake. “B-but?” He was afraid to even ask.
Sighing, the doctor simply said “She may never wake up....only time will tell.”
“How bad is it?” Jake asked.
The doctor hesitated, then answered “She has chemical burns on nearly 50% of her body. It will take a miracle for her to live through that.”
“No! My baby..” A cry turned their attention to Jake's wife who had appeared behind him without their realization. She collapsed to the floor, crying.
“Can we get a bed?” The doctor was saying to a couple of nurses by the station.
Jake knelt next to his wife and held her tightly, rocking back and forth. When the nurses brought over the bed, Jake helped her up onto it, where she immediately curled into a ball and began to wail. One of the nurses helped her drink a cup of some kind of minty-smelling liquid, which calmed her down within minutes.
“She can sleep in your daughter's room for now. It will be a few hours before we can take her out of the Urgent Care area.” The doctor told Jake, who nodded and numbly said his thanks, then followed his wife's gurney into his daughter's room. He knew his kids were safe with friends of the family, but he worried about them as well. He wondered if they were okay, and if they were being fed and kept safe. He wondered when he would see them again. He wondered how others he knew had fared in the explosion. He wondered if anyone he knew was dead. He wondered if his daughter was going to live. He wondered how his dogs were. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he waited for his daughter to come back.

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Mon Aug 3, 2015, 3:35 PM
Razor-sharp grains of sand surge from hell to heaven in an infinite rage, turning the city of Al Qasr from its beautiful turquoise pools and shimmering skyscrapers to the pit of darkness, as the sun is wiped from existence in the fury of a powerful sandstorm. Within minutes, the road, the sidewalks, the buildings, the trees—everything is coated with a thick layer of yellow and orange sand, and the sky tints to a dark puke-yellow color. Skyscrapers, the mosque, a school, and the open squares disappear in the chaos, temporarily lost like Atlantis, in rolling waves of a bleak mirk.
Tied to a post somewhere beyond the buildings, out on the edge of town, an especially-hairy camel growls and bays in annoyance, and a stray dog barks anxiously, his voice nearly covered by the wind. Two men run haphazardly from one building to the building right next door, but no one ventures outside if they don't have to. Wide-eyed tourists stare out the windows, their cameras and phones pressed to the glass, in hopes of getting that perfect “crazy weather here” shot for Instagram or Facebook. The roar of the wind deafens the ears of any who dare to bear live witness to its wrath, drowning out most other noises. Mixed in with the howling and roaring, is the odd sound of gasps and groans, like the cries of an injured animal. The noise reverberates off of walls and seems to change location with each shift of the wind, and is thus ignored by the locals as nothing more than Allah showing his mighty power to shape nature to his will.
A young woman with black hair, fair features, olive skin, and a long flowing cloak wraps her black and gold hijab around her face, until it covers everything but her dark brown eyes. Leaning against a pillar, just under the shelter of a parking deck roof, she squints out into the raging storm, searching for the source of the errie noise. Flickering back and forth in the chaos, her eyes finally pinpoint the source: an American Marine stumbling around blindly, confused by the sandstorm, one hand gripped tightly around his left arm and face contorted in agony. She watched as he stumbled and nearly fell, then forced himself to walk into the wind again, appearing to look for something or someone in particular. Every now and then, he would glance over his shoulder with an almost paranoid look, before using his right hand to ensure that his shemagh covered his face securely, and pressing forward again. Then, suddenly, he lurched forward as his feet caught something in the mirk and he cried out in pain, though his voice was silenced by the roar of the wind. His knees buckled and he collapsed.
Quickly, she glanced around to make sure no one else was watching—knowing that the men seated in the cafe just off to her right would not be too thrilled if they saw her helping an American, let alone an American solider, especially her uncle—before bracing against the wind and rushing to his side. Leaning over him, she could see a dark red stain spreading across his left shoulder, and though the sand was quickly covering him up, his pale, cool skin was still visible. Splatters of blood, now browned by the sand covering them, were visible on his combat boots and pant legs. His chest rose and fell rapidly and despite the noisy wind, she could hear him gasping and struggling to breathe. He would die if she left him here.
Carefully, she put an arm under his good arm and tried to get him to stand up, yelling into his ear in Arabic and broken English. “Yalla! Yalla! Go!” She yelled, pulling at his good arm. His eyes fluttered open and he struggled to get up, almost dragging her down into the sand with him, but he managed to pull his feet under him as his mind kicked into survival mode and he allowed her to help him find shelter. Using all the strength she had, she half-dragged, half-led him to a building that was probably a crystal-blue color at one point but had been warn down by war and was an ugly grey shade, now turned orange by the storm. Just after making it inside, he collapsed at the foot of some concrete stairs, his eyes rolling around and blood coming out of the corner of his mouth.
“Khara!' She cursed as she felt him fall. “I get my brother.” She told him as she lay him back against the steps. “You stay here. Don't move.” She told him. His eyes rolled again and he tried to say something but more blood came out instead. “Don't talk. Us kut!” Disappearing into the darkness of dimly lit hallways, she rushed to find her brother who was a medic and was one of the few who still respected the US Military.
With fading eyes he watched her go, his mind already drifting off to his own memories. A phrase finally escaped his lips, although no one was there to hear it. “Whiskey Hotel, Tango Down.” He repeated this phrase even as the woman came back with her brother, and three other men who drifted in and out of his vision like mirages. The medic knelt by the Marine's side and pressed a black and white shemagh against the injured man's shoulder, causing him to cry out.
“We must get him to Dr. Hassan Al Mouk immediately. Help me carry him to the building.” The medic instructed the three men who simply nodded and lifted the Marine up between them. As the carried him quickly through a maze of hallways to the back door, the Marine began to filter in and out of consciousness.
Suddenly, he grabbed the young medic's arm frantically, with his good hand and gasped. “Message..Bravo Company..Six-Zero-Six..Eastern horizon. Thirteen....” and passed out, his eyes rolling backwards and his heart beating erratically.
The startled medic stared down at him for a moment, then put his hand on his sister's arm and gave her explicit instructions to take the Marine to Al Mouk immediately, without delay, before he disappeared back into the maze of hallways to find the person who could make sense of the Marine's message...and hopefully save someone's life.
Whispers by Ancient-Hoofbeats
Whispers
:star: 
©WMM-AH 
Please do not use my art for any purposes without my written consent. If you wish to share it on other websites, then you must credit me.
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:iconfreeport:
Freeport Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2015  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav of Female Stock Soldier 06 - Aiming by Freeport !
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DiamonEyes Featured By Owner May 4, 2015
Thanks for faving "Plumita Being Cheeky" :icondiamonddoveplz:
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uki--uki Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2015
:smallwave: V2 
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Ancient-Hoofbeats Featured By Owner May 23, 2015  Student General Artist
:wave:
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luk01 Featured By Owner Mar 30, 2015  Student General Artist
Thanks Jessica for the fav! :)
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xbastex Featured By Owner Jan 25, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you so much for the fav
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Ancient-Hoofbeats Featured By Owner Jan 25, 2015  Student General Artist
you're welcome :) Beautiful work!
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amzimme Featured By Owner Jan 25, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the favorites! Your gallery is fantastic--you are very multitalented! You have brilliant macro, animal photography, spontaneous portraits, creative work, and more. And your favorites are amazing, too, haha! Thank you for looking at and liking my gallery, and for bringing me to yours! :)
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Ancient-Hoofbeats Featured By Owner Jan 25, 2015  Student General Artist
thanks :)
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luna201269 Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2014
Thanks for the fav! :D Slenderman Icon
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