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05-30-2013, 12:32 AM
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LYNX The approaching hoof beats alert the mute stallion, and he snaps his head around to view the newcomer. Through the smoky haze it is difficult to see much, just a large white shape rushing closer. At first, he is not alarmed, but as the figure keeps coming, charging straight toward his smaller frame and showing no intentions of stopping, he knows this is an attack. Fortunately, he is quick, and manages to leap out of the way, though one pale shoulder clips his hindquarters, causing him to stumble. Had his antagonist wished, she might have been able to whirl about and take advantage of this, but she doesn't, instead approaching in an aggressive prance, twin horns aimed cruelly at his flank. And he recognizes her now, though she has grown, has seen that sleek pelt and twisting adornments, hummed softly to take the fear from those cerulean eyes. He had come here in hopes of seeing a daughter, and so he has, though not one he had expected. But what has happened to her? What creatures had taken her, molded the sweet, innocent child into a brutal warrior? Could he speak, he would have asked, would have apologized for allowing this to happen. But he cannot, can't even speak her name so she can see he is familiar, see that he is the one she called Spots, and with her standing on his right she cannot see his mangled face and know him as her father. Where the ground not baked hard, he could have drawn, as he did when they first met, formed a spotted wildcat in the earth and reminded her of their time in the Threshold. That option is gone though, for he cannot sketch this almost stone-like dirt into any other shape, not quickly and easily, and he doubts this girl will be patient enough to wait. Instead, he turns his face to her, showing the disfiguring horn as clearly as he can. It will have to be enough.  |
