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Taliesyn spent most of his time at home, moving among the herds to assess which animals were most likely to require culling. But occasionally, like today, he meandered, exploring the lands beyond the borders of Valhalla. Isolde and Wangui were with him, and he ambled along the trail, ears and eyes alert, nostrils occasionally testing the air.
His hooves clipped and clattered over stones with dull clops of the unshod, and echoes bounced off the walls, occasionally abruptly dying as the sounds found cave mouths to delve into. Apparently, Valhalla of Old had claimed this gorge under Erani’s leadership. His mother had told him of the deal the Queen had struck with a mountain lion—the lion could reside there as long as she never harmed a member of Valhalla.
As though the thought of mountain lions had summoned the beast, a screech from above was his only warning before a heavy, tawny frame dropped from a ledge. The stallion snorted, having jumped to one side as Isolde alerted him. Hooves rattled and scraped as he gathered his legs under him, head bowing to present the thankfully blade-clad horn to the big, saber-fanged cat that had missed him thanks to the hawk in the sky above.
The saber cat was by far the biggest feline he’d ever seen, and he didn’t fancy the idea of letting it get close enough to use those teeth or claws on him; slowly, he backed away, ears flat to his crest, tail arched as his coat blazed with the heat of adrenalin now coursing through him.
The cat gathered itself and leapt.
Taliesyn bounded to one side, lashing out with his hind hooves as Wangui sprang to the cat’s back and stabbed down with a sharp-edged stone she’d plucked from the wall of the gorge earlier. The cat grunted as the stallion’s hooves clipped it in the ribs, then roared in pain as the stone sliced into its hide in a ragged cut.
Isolde dropped from the sky and slammed into the top of the cat’s head, raking with her talons and giving the stallion time to disengage and take a better vantage point where he could better maneuver and defend himself. The cat twisted, trying to fend off the angry lemur and hawk with swipes of its paws, snarls of growing ire rumbling off the walls of the gorge, before it gathered itself and tried to pounce for the stallion.
The stallion snorted and danced to one side, swinging his head to slash the blade on his horn over the cat’s ribs, Wangui bounding back to the horse’s withers to regroup as Isolde battered the cat with her wings and talons before taking off again, narrowly avoiding a slap of claws that would no doubt have killed her had they connected.
The stallion lunged forward while the cat was still distracted, plunging his horn into the cat’s shoulder and wrenching his head to the side and letting the blade rip through the cat’s flesh as he pushed off, swerving to avoid the saber cat’s swipe, coat on end as the cat thundered at him in obvious pain and anger.
The cat pursued the stallion, and he lashed out with his hind hooves, planting a harsh kick that rewarded him with a roar that was more of a shriek.
Something clattered across the rocky ground and the saber cat stopped chasing him, pawing at its own face, groaning. The horse pivoted, rearing slightly and striking out with his forehooves, clubbing the thoroughly distracted cat. It crumpled, stunned and bleeding from the mouth.
He gave no mercy, lunging and plunging his horn into the cat’s ribs, scraping against them and slicing deeper before he wrenched free and pranced to the side, nostrils flared as the saber cat thrashed. His horn and forelock were painted crimson, and the saber cat remained on the ground, wheezing.
Blood seeped from the rending wound in the cat’s side, and once the stallion was certain the cat was too weak to truly harm him, he stepped forward, rearing and bringing his hooves down together with his full weight on the cat’s neck. The saber’s body twitched and went limp, and the crunch told the stallion that the cat’s neck was broken, if not severed from the skull. And to hurry the cat on its way to oblivion, he slashed the blade on his horn over its throat, stepping away and letting the cat finish dying.
He lifted his head, checking for Isolde and any other possible dangers that could be waiting, and the hawk dropped from the sky. “Just us here. No other dangers that I could see.”
The stallion nodded and eyed the now-dead saber cat. “Strange times, these… Best get this beast skinned and parted out. The pack can always use extra pelts and meat, even if it’s other predators.”
Wangui clucked her tongue and dropped to help Taliesyn as the horse bent to his work, guiding his horn where it needed to do. Over the next couple of hours, they worked, and then, in time, only blood and a few intestines remained on the stone ground, bloody hoof prints leading away until the ground wore the stuff from the stallion’s hooves and feathering.
It seemed he once again had an offering to bring to Valhalla.
Word Count: 889
Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think
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