Countless scents of countless horses invaded his nostrils. They seemed to eat his brain and chase any intelligent thought from his mind. The lap dog demeanor he’d adopted when Mauja picked up his rope washed away with the wind. His eyes were beginning to light up with the mad fire which resided within the stallion and his blood red nostrils were parted giving his face a hint of insanity. For he was truly a maddened dog without his master nearby, aggression was the product of him feeling that he had to take charge. Whereas when Mauja was with him, he felt calm and secure in the knowledge that he needed not lead, that Master would take care of that.

Sweat coated his body, making the clean parts of his black hide gleam red in the light of the dying sun. The closer he got to his homeland the hotter the fire within him grew and his eyes were soon fully ablaze. The smell of his own herd seemed to him as trapped behind a myriad of unknown scents, but he recognized one; Throat. Ever since he’d connected that smell with seeing Snö in danger he’d loathed it, despised it, and it always drove his madness to the surface. And so he pinned his ears flat, ignored the rope which was whipping his side, and leaned in - increasing his speed even further. Drip, drop! he gave himself the command, his mind already made up that these unknown scent were threats to the Edge.

When he arrived he saw the backs of many, lined up at the borders of his home and his anger reached its boiling point. The only thing he wanted was to find and aid Mauja. He was not clear, nor intelligent, enough to acknowledge what chaos he could create from behind enemy lines so he didn’t slow his neck breaking speed - just kept racing. He was blind to the strange bodies around him, ignored all other scents than that of his alabaster Master and paid no attention to the smell of blood or the roars of pain and anger. He ran through the mist - straight towards where he could see a pale figure that must be Master.

Leave it to a fool to think he can run across a battlefield and get to the other side unharmed, however this fool came quite far on the damp grass. Just as he saw the flame engulfed body of Mauja a big, black wall came in his way though and the Monster’s eyes widened in surprise. He slammed on the breaks, but the appearance of the heavy build equine had happened too suddenly and he would have no way of hindering the crash. Unless a miracle happened he would hit ARCHIBALD’s forequarters with tremendous force. If the draft kept running forwards however the Monster’s chest may get the softer impact of the equine’s abdomen, but if ARCHBALD had seen the devil eyed pet come maybe he would have the time to stop and back up. The only thing that was certain was that there was nothing the black beast could do as he sat, head thrown high in the air, gliding over the grass.

536 Words

[Archibald is appearing in the mist just in front of Monster as is running at neck-breaking speed]