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01-02-2014, 12:11 AM
His dome tilted to the side and then he smirked, knowing she wouldn't dare trust a stranger that she had just met by any means. But on the other hand, she was only a foal, and he could relate as of how their little minds worked. Comanche tossed his head and turned to walk away. He took about seven steps before another shrill voice came into hearing. His body turned angle quickly, his head shot up, and his harks perked forward with full alarm. ”ABISHIA!” He was hoping that the Indians had not come to send him to his death wish, but he knew of no one named as an 'Abishia'. When he looked to the filly, she was half drowned in tears. Now he could understand that the voice was none from an Indian, but came from the filly's mother.
The painted mare stepped into view only a view lengths in front of Abishia. The young foal turned her head away though, to reach out and touch a figure that was not there. This spooked Comanche, and his questions weaved their way into his confused head. Can she speak to the spirits? He asked himself, thinking it must be crazy. But the colt had heard many stories from Dasan, and this was one of them. Comanche had been told that their was one horse every few years, if they got lucky, that could talk to the dead, called spirits. Maybe Abishia was one of them, but he could not tell since he could not see them himself.
Thinking now that the filly's mother was now here, Abishia would no longer want to cross the creek. Comanche turned himself around, but then was disturbed when the filly's high-pitched voice rang throughout the forest. ”I'll be across in a jiffy!” The stag smirked and swung his rear back around, facing the filly directly as she lined up with the river. The stud shuddered when she began to run towards the chilly waters, getting closer and closer to the giant root that stood in her way. His hind legs pushed forward as hard as they could as she got closer. ”No! Stop!” His deep throat echoed, but it was too late, she began to tumble and soon she disappeared underneath the dirty waters. His lip quivered but her pushed on, taking a sharp turn, almost falling in the water himself. He raced the waters, staying a few feet ahead of Abishia's body.
He jumped with all his might, landing clear in front of the filly's cold body. He felt it thump against his legs and he could feel her wet hair. Thinking she was already gone, he about left her but then he felt the beating of her little heart and lifted her gently out of the water. Comanche softly placed her on the side of the bank and stepped out of the water, not even shaking dry before he looked over Abishia's body. His soft muzzle nudge her, hoping she would awake. The stag looked at her mother and nodded. He lowered his antlers to the side and let his drenched leather bag fall to the ground. Then he once again dipped his head and let the clay necklace fall beside the filly's unconscious body.
Comanche looked to his bag and shook his head but applied it back to his antlers. It will dry. He raised his head and looked at the mare. ”The necklace, is for Abishia. Please, do tell her I am sorry. And my apologies to you too, miss.” He dipped his dome and jumped the creek again. He looked back once more before taking off and disappearing into the brush.
The painted mare stepped into view only a view lengths in front of Abishia. The young foal turned her head away though, to reach out and touch a figure that was not there. This spooked Comanche, and his questions weaved their way into his confused head. Can she speak to the spirits? He asked himself, thinking it must be crazy. But the colt had heard many stories from Dasan, and this was one of them. Comanche had been told that their was one horse every few years, if they got lucky, that could talk to the dead, called spirits. Maybe Abishia was one of them, but he could not tell since he could not see them himself.
Thinking now that the filly's mother was now here, Abishia would no longer want to cross the creek. Comanche turned himself around, but then was disturbed when the filly's high-pitched voice rang throughout the forest. ”I'll be across in a jiffy!” The stag smirked and swung his rear back around, facing the filly directly as she lined up with the river. The stud shuddered when she began to run towards the chilly waters, getting closer and closer to the giant root that stood in her way. His hind legs pushed forward as hard as they could as she got closer. ”No! Stop!” His deep throat echoed, but it was too late, she began to tumble and soon she disappeared underneath the dirty waters. His lip quivered but her pushed on, taking a sharp turn, almost falling in the water himself. He raced the waters, staying a few feet ahead of Abishia's body.
He jumped with all his might, landing clear in front of the filly's cold body. He felt it thump against his legs and he could feel her wet hair. Thinking she was already gone, he about left her but then he felt the beating of her little heart and lifted her gently out of the water. Comanche softly placed her on the side of the bank and stepped out of the water, not even shaking dry before he looked over Abishia's body. His soft muzzle nudge her, hoping she would awake. The stag looked at her mother and nodded. He lowered his antlers to the side and let his drenched leather bag fall to the ground. Then he once again dipped his head and let the clay necklace fall beside the filly's unconscious body.
Comanche looked to his bag and shook his head but applied it back to his antlers. It will dry. He raised his head and looked at the mare. ”The necklace, is for Abishia. Please, do tell her I am sorry. And my apologies to you too, miss.” He dipped his dome and jumped the creek again. He looked back once more before taking off and disappearing into the brush.
