And A Hero Was Born

*Obsidian* · 03-30-2014, 05:38 AM

Obsidian

She had wandered away from Valhalla, heading north. Things were peaceful for the wolf pack she called family, and it lent her mood a bright shine. Late Summer was turning to autumn now, and still, her hide hadn?t yet turned from it?s rich raven?s plumage sheen to the dull matte black of cooler seasons. Somehow, don?t ask her how; it was a complete miracle? Somehow, she had managed to evade all burrs like the plague, and her mane had grown out again, daring to fall to just above the knees. It still bore a few adornments of nature; aromatic tree sap clogged a spot between her ears where she?d scratched a particularly annoying itch away on a Douglas fir.

Her haunch wounds were completely healed now, and it was a blessing that proud flesh hadn?t sparked up once in the whole time it had taken to heal. That Erani was a heaven-sent miracle in herself. She wasn?t half bad at being a Queen, either. Thick black tail flicked as she carefully placed her hooves upon the marshy earth. It was a quiet place here, with birds singing to and fro, and frogs adding their soft croaking to the air. It also sounded as though a thunderstorm must have been heading in; thunder rolled in the distance, coming closer. And closer. Her ears pricked forward. That thunder seemed rather? constant. But there was a familiar rhythm. Not at all unlike? Hoofbeats. Big hoofbeats.

The last rays of sunlight were dying, and she lifted her head as high as she could, ears quivering to the point of the tips nearly meeting. A little gift from her dam, those ears. The blue eyes were a dam given gift as well. Her mother?s had been a regular horse eye blue of a Sabino, her face splashed in white, rimmed in flecks of the color. Speaking of white? Was that a ghost mane and tail flying by? And feathered socks and broad blaze? Said blue eyes popped wide with surprise as she peered through her thick forelock at the thundering creature that charged past.

She hadn?t seen another of her own kind, this unexpected blast of horse flesh was something she hadn?t any idea how to react to. Even instinct seemed at a loss here. So she stayed, stock still, staring after the flowing white tail as it drew away into the darkening twilight. Had she really seen it? Only one way to find out. She forced her muscles to obey her and stepped forward, falling into the careful pace she?d picked up from Cormalin?s lessons to Surreal. Walk lightly, make no noise. Deer prancing through the meadow. She tossed her head slightly, dark mane falling to hide the four-point star as finally, the darkness fell complete around her.

Now, unlike wolves, who had excellent night vision, Horses were a little less adept at traveling through underbrush at night. Something Cormalin had noticed and addressed. So he?d taught her to travel with her head lower than usual, her sensitive nose with it?s long whiskers being used to gently feel her way along where she couldn?t see her next step. And finally, an opening ahead, and the ghost mane and tail, and four feathered socks and broad blaze, came into view. They were attached to? She blinked. Oh, hubba hubba.

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