A Myth On Four Legs

It was a night with no moon, yet it seemed as though a fragment of moonlight had taken shape to walk among the earth, an ethereal silver-blue glow lighting each step as the great creature picked its way through the boggy moorland.

Such a creature shouldn’t have been possible. He glowed, and his hide shimmered softly in varying, rippling shades of pewter, silver, blues, and soft violets. But the glow and shimmering coat wasn’t even the main reason for wonder in the creature. He bore a horn, a hard shaft of glowing white ivory sprouting proudly from his brow, right in the center.

Gossamer glowing strands floated on a midnight breeze, straying from thick locks of white mane and tail as he stopped, head rising high to tip wide nostrils into the breeze. Bright teal eyes scanned the surrounding trees, fore-lit by his own light, before he started forward again, snorting softly as he made his way onward.

Only his hooves were sullied by the mud and muck he traveled through. The rest of his form was spotlessly white, tail lifted to keep the ends of the hair from the muck. It was at long last that the stallion found a high point in the ground, above the mud and muck and filth. He paused there, head slowly scanning, small ears flicking back and forward, listening.

Here, he decided, would be a good place to stop. After a bit, he would forge on, and find better ground, but perhaps in the daylight. Easier to see predators in the mud, then.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think