Alina

It was early morning in Dragon’s Throat. So early that the western skies were still deep blue and sprayed with thousands of twinkling stars. But in the east the canopy was slowly turning lighter and the stars had faded. An almost undetectable golden hue outlined the horizon; a promise that the sun would soon rise. The oasis lay in silence; the birds had not yet started singing and the herd was sleeping save for a few patrols - it was very quiet and peaceful.

Tucked in firmly against a red rock, with her wings tightly pressed to her sides and her legs collected underneath her body a white mare lay sleeping. Her sleep was not of a peaceful kind despite the tranquil morning. She was twitching now and then, her eyes were moving rapidly under the lids and her breathing was elevated. It was obvious that she was having a bad dream. But given her resent experiences it was easy to understand why she was tormented by nightmares.

The dove suddenly woke herself with a muffled nigh. She flung her head from the ground and looked around with frightened eyes. Her chest heaved and her pink nostrils were wide open as she scanned the surroundings. To her surprise there was no ocean, no flashing lightning, howling wind or rolling thunder. And there were no slimy tentacles trying to pull her under the waves. She was safe in the Dragon’s Throat.

The dove unfurled her body and rose from the ground. She shook the sand from her pristine white coat and took a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

It had been less than two days since her run-in with the giant beast and she hadn’t really slept since then. Every time she fell asleep she saw the slimy limbs, heard the gurgling sound and felt the stench of rotten fish. She remembered, with fear, the sensation of being out of oxygen and the feeling of the monster’s limb squeezing the life out of her. The event had even taken away the girl’s usual glee and had left her quiet and reserved.

The dove swallowed to try and ease her dry thoat. She didn’t feel fit to start the day, but she knew she had to find a way to get over the shaking experience and thus she couldn’t just lay on the ground all day feeling sorry for herself. ”Don’t make yourself a victim.” her father had taught her. So she shook her body once more and trotted off towards the oasis to quench her thirst.

As she lowered her pale muzzle into the calm waters the first bird started singing and soon many others followed. The golden lining of the horizon had grown and the sun was almost peaking up over the edge. Dragon’s Throat was waking up and the pale dove suddenly felt a little better.

bg and flower: locolobo.net