Post by Sojourner on Jun 22, 2013 15:42:33 GMT -5
Broad,chipped hooves skittered down the slope. Shale broke off of the dark rocks and threatened to help him down, but he wasn't worried none. He just trotted down the jaggedy face like he hadn't a care in the world. Then he stood and hefted his head.
He was in the lee of the slope, and that was a comfort to him. His mousey coat was already soaked and smattering the sand at his feet with water, icy cold. A tremor, a shiver, tried to rise up, but he blinked and dismissed it. He'd been through too much, been around too long, to let a mite bit of chill and damp unsettle him.
He drank in the wind, much as he dared without drowning in the wet of it, and there weren't no scent of no-horse in it. Big hooves pawed at this sand and he dipped his head low to see if signs were hid by the grains. Nothing.
Ears flicking this way and that, he tilted his head a touch and let his cobalt eyes rake the landscape. Still nothing. Mayhap... He began trotting afore the thought could finish. Each step got a bit faster and he went this way and that, his search ever widening. Finally, his hooves smacked into the surf and he stopped again, watching and waiting and still not quite willing to believe.
The wind howled along the coast, grabbing the next wave to roll in and slamming it first against a black, submerged rock, and then across the stallion's side. He gasped at the cold and began shivering in earnest, pride or no, but at the same time, a pleased look settled on his face.
'Course there weren't no other's on this beach. Who'd want it? What with the wind and the cold and the scarce tufts of saw grass... but that was just the thing. It was a corner of the world that no-horse wanted, and maybe it was a corner just big enough for him to find some peace.
He was in the lee of the slope, and that was a comfort to him. His mousey coat was already soaked and smattering the sand at his feet with water, icy cold. A tremor, a shiver, tried to rise up, but he blinked and dismissed it. He'd been through too much, been around too long, to let a mite bit of chill and damp unsettle him.
He drank in the wind, much as he dared without drowning in the wet of it, and there weren't no scent of no-horse in it. Big hooves pawed at this sand and he dipped his head low to see if signs were hid by the grains. Nothing.
Ears flicking this way and that, he tilted his head a touch and let his cobalt eyes rake the landscape. Still nothing. Mayhap... He began trotting afore the thought could finish. Each step got a bit faster and he went this way and that, his search ever widening. Finally, his hooves smacked into the surf and he stopped again, watching and waiting and still not quite willing to believe.
The wind howled along the coast, grabbing the next wave to roll in and slamming it first against a black, submerged rock, and then across the stallion's side. He gasped at the cold and began shivering in earnest, pride or no, but at the same time, a pleased look settled on his face.
'Course there weren't no other's on this beach. Who'd want it? What with the wind and the cold and the scarce tufts of saw grass... but that was just the thing. It was a corner of the world that no-horse wanted, and maybe it was a corner just big enough for him to find some peace.