Blood in the Snow [Winter Seasonal - Solo]

Winter was waning toward spring, but snow still stubbornly clung to the ground in icy patches, especially in areas where the sun didn’t reach very well. The stallion was draped in a bison hide sewn to fit him without sliding off.

Taliesyn was on patrol, soaking in the weak sunrays on the back of his crest where the hide didn’t cover. Wangui was tucked under a much smaller coat sewn of rabbit pelts, perched on the stallion’s withers and grumbling about Spring hurrying up and getting here when above a screech pierced the air as Isolde stooped and arrowed in ahead of Taliesyn.

“Coyote pack. It’s a big one, too; ten adults.”

Taliesyn picked up the pace from an ambling, alert walk to a brisk trot, calling to Isolde as he went, “Go get the pack.” Isolde clicked in confirmation and winged off across the plains in search of pack members to help fend the coyotes off.

A few coyotes were normally no issue for the stallion. ‘A few’ meaning two or three, maybe four. They were usually daunted by his massive size and imperious presence, and the huge hooves. Ten, however, was a different story. When Coyotes packed together this way, they were braver, and more willing to prey on animals his size.

He could hold them off and kill off a few if no one made it in time, but it would mean a lot of fancy hoof-work and kicking.

Ahead, his pricked ears caught the sound of yipping and the usual carrying on of a pack ready to hunt. The coyote pack was large enough to be cocky, ignoring Valhalla’s wall and scent borders in favor of hunting.

Taliesyn charged as the coyotes came into sight, and the wiry creatures’ hunt-song was cut short as all ten heads swiveled sharply to stare at him with large yellow eyes widened in brief surprise at the strangely glowing horse with a horn.

Normally, they might have scattered, but the hunt song had gotten their blood up, and they were enough to take on a prey animal as big as this horse. So the coyotes broke into hungry grins and spread out to circle the stallion as Taliesyn thundered into their midst.

They were quickly challenged of their beliefs as a hoof flashed out and clipped one coyote on the head as he leapt to nip at the stallion’s hocks. The coyote crumpled where he landed after sailing a good distance of cartwheels through the air and staggered to his paws, swaying before collapsing for good.

The coyotes shook off the momentary concern and pressed in—the horse couldn’t possibly fend them off from all sides at once. And they’d win out in the end with a feast to last for days.

Taliesyn broke into a flurry of stomps and kicks, head swinging down to slash one coyote across the face with the tip of his horn, slicing the animal’s flesh open with the sharp tip of the blade attached to the already dangerous weapon.

Several coyotes fell under his attacks, some sent sailing through the air from his teeth as he snapped down on scruffs of tails and flung them bodily away. Nine became eight, eight dwindled to seven, then six.

Taliesyn wasn’t all successful, and crimson trickled into his feathers on all four legs from the small slices from their teeth, but those who landed a bite on him swiftly regretted their choices.

As another coyote leapt – this time with some desperation – for his throat, Taliesyn struck out with his front legs, and the coyote yelped as the stallion’s knees cracked against the creature’s chin, snapping the teeth shut on air and shattering several.

The coyote fell to the ground and staggered away, groaning as blood dripped from a shattered, slack mouth.

Six had fallen into five, and the final five scattered, finally admitting defeat and scrambling across the plains toward the wall, with the stallion in full pursuit, head snaking low, and teeth bared, ears flat in menace.

Two of the coyotes came up against the wall where they were too small to leap it, and cowered, until his hooves did them in and left them lying in their last throes as he bore down on the remaining three as they bolted along the wall, tails tucked tightly under their bellies and jaws gaping in terror.

A passage opened up in the wall and the stallion chased the creatures for a good hundred more feet before he peeled off from the chase and stood, nostrils flared and puffing heavy clouds of mist into the air.

His bison skin cloak was slightly askew on his back, and Wangui was clinging to his mane, eyes bugged out. She’d done her best to launch sneak attacks from above, clinging to his long mane and scampering back up.

Once the coyotes were long gone, Taliesyn made his way back to the wall and blew out a long snort, quietly assessing each ache and pain and stinging wound. The healers would have a good deal to tend to, but he’d make it through fine with minimal scarring, if his own assessment was correct.

If those coyotes were smart, they’d spread the word that Valhalla was not a good hunting ground for coyotes.

Word Count: 880

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