I AM TIRED OF BEING CAUGHT IN THE TANGLE OF THEIR LIVES.
The forest was flat. Umbreon was not used to such an expanse of flatness, for his mountain home had high peaks and was, most of the year, impassable. But it didn’t matter, for the forest had a certain charm that the black stallion could grow to appreciate, especially in the fall. The colors were blinding and not unlike the wooded valleys in the mountains, but certainly there were fewer pine trees.
Umbreon could see why the shire stallion had lived and perhaps loved the forest. It was peculiar that he could not sense the black behemoth, and Umbreon allowed a small dash of worry to grace his thoughts, if only for a moment. But he was old, ancient really, and Kisei had been around the same age that day in the Ridge. It was not unlikely that he had already met his demise.
So what then would Umbreon do? He had hoped that Kisei would be around, recognize him, and perhaps accept him as secondary. He supposed he could wait around politely until the new lead came upon him, but strangers made him wary these days.
He was suddenly quite glad he had left Mako in the meadow.
It didn’t matter what he decided, however, for just when he was about to make a step in one direction, he caught the sounds of another horse approaching. He flicked his ears toward the noise and glanced around, trying to peer through the trees, but was unable to distinguish anything.
He flicked his tail uneasily.
Lowering his head, Umbreon settled into a stock-still position, though his ears were constantly moving.
UMBREON
the man in black