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Reynier pounded his anger into the earth. He struck in rapid succession one foreleg and then the other, as if to puncture the horse shaped darkness that clung to his hooves. It mirrored him, mocked him, and when the roan lunged forward the shadow lunged too, racing ahead as if to urge him on.
The stallion pitted himself against his darker rival, but as they galloped the trees thinned, the ground smoothed, and the shadow elongated until no feat of speed or strength would bring their two heads level, though they matched stride for stride.
The stallion strained his neck forward, jaws gnashing in frustration. Neat rows of yellowed teeth snapped together with an audible click as they failed to find purchase in the spectral enemy. It wore no flesh to tear, no bones to break, and remained wholly unfazed by the attack. Incensed, the stallion braced his legs and threw himself against his own momentum. Thick hocks flexed and strained against the sudden stop, skidding his hind end to an unceremonious halt while the shadow simply stilled, no effort shown at all.
A low note of irritation rumbled up from the stallions throat. He spun away from the specter, another flash of aggression tightening his muscles against their skeletal moorings, but before he could charge off in a renewed fit of rage something grabbed at his fickle attention. An unnatural pattern lay printed in the browns and greens of the foothills, a pair of lines cut into the grassland. The same broken soil still clung to his rear fetlocks, peppering the long featherings of hair.
His skin felt hot and sweat darkened the color of his flanks, but the roans muscles uncoiled warm and languid, the prick of his anger somewhat diminished by this visible, tangible sign of his own virility. He faced into the sun now, its rays plating the landscape in gold and banishing the shadow from sight. Its constant goading had ground on the stallions nerves with unusual force today. He realized only now, in stillness, that the shadow had driven him here. He glanced left to right, ears swiveling, nostrils flaring.
Though none were visible, the scent of warm bodies lingered throughout the pass. Horses, something like horses, and others. Warm bodies meant blood and sinew and bones. All the substantiality that his spectral escort lacked. He cast a sidelong glance across one hip, toward the the dark pool behind him. Its edges were more defined in this lighting, but instead of taking advantage it simply lolled without shape or directive, apparently satisfied. He scoffed at the sudden show of complacency, but relished a slow wave of relief that accompanied having pleased the shadow horse. If it had driven him here, there was praise to be won in his gods service.
A breeze dipped into the hollow of the pass, splitting across the surface of the stallions chest. Cooler, thinner air from above the forested wind break slithered across his shoulders, one side reminiscent of a caress. With slight concentration he could even feel individual fingertips trailing down the arch of his neck, the gods pleasure with his journey evident, but brief. The opposite shoulder felt unnaturally exposed, the chill of the air pressing directly against his skin. Confused, he curled his neck to nose at a swath of scar tissue, an expression of anxiety pinching his brow.
The gods rewarded, but they also punished and Reynier could not remember having a scar.
There were many things Reynier could not remember.
OOC: Open to anyone. :)
*Edited to format, add header, and make slight corrections 1/7/15 7:33pm. Please ignore the abnormal teeth and mouth on the header. This is the most recent art that I have of him and was from another site where he had a facial mutation.
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