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08-19-2013, 07:56 PM
S k e l l s
When you, soldiers, are called into battle, and the odds are grim and there is no hope, do not run. You will only die tired. Hot wind blew around his alabaster ankles in lazy bursts, furling up with it the red sand that adorned the seemingly war-plagued land. He would have never guessed. When he'd arrived, all was quiet. The moon shone lazily on the Dragon's Throat, and he'd heard none of the distant war cries nor the gnashing of teeth. But now, he was made aware of the battles that raged just distances from where he stood now, and the thought of such violence sent a shiver down his spine and in his flanks. Rasta informed him of the foals, of whom needed to be guarded from danger, and he quickly wrenched the muscles in his neck to nod. "Of course, Rasta. They will be safe with me." He would guard them with his life, of course. This was going to be his new home. While his heart leapt inside at the thought, his outer frame stood still. There was no time for giddiness, especially now. He needed to be with the young ones. The zephyr pulled and tampered with Skells' jet black tassels, tangling them together as they danced in the wind, knotting themselves as if they were playing lazily in the breeze. His tail swayed too, to the rhythmic melody of the wind. Even his lobes were animated, flickering constantly in the moonlight, as if he were listening for the sounds of the battle. Perhaps it was moving closer to them, and he'd really have to fend the enemies from the young ones. The though created another shiver, which tingled through his legs and hooves. How would he manage to fight anything off? He was still so diminished from his travels. But nevertheless, he would do anything for the next generation of his homeland. With a nicker, he moved closer to the foals, keeping his head low so that he didn't startle them. From his nostrils a gentle sigh blew, and he called out to them. "Don't be alarmed, I'm here to protect you." Carefully, he looked back at Rasta. Was he doing this right? He was never good with the young ones. Pricking his ears towards her for a moment, he dragged his metallic gaze back to the foals. Gods, I do hope I'm not scaring the little things... He reached them, achieving the short distance from where he stood, and he turned his skull back to the alabaster female, as if waiting to be told he was okay to approach them. He knew how protective some horses could be of the youth, so he didn't want to provoke anything unnecessary. 430 words. |
Table by Frostie <3
