emmett -----
by array out of meja
Between the howling wind and pelting rain, all the sounds around him are muffled. He can barely hear his own breaths even as every exhale is visible in the dropping temperature. He is operating on the most basic urges now: run, catch, protect.
Help her, Emmett! he hears clearly in his mind. Shocked by the suddenness of her voice, he squeals and almost trips over himself as he skids to a halt. Mud splatters up against his dark champagne barrel, covering the white speckling. His eyes dart around for Angeline but she’s disappeared again.
It takes his gaze passing a second time over the stranger he’s been pursuing for him to realize that she’s stopped too. He’s not all that surprised by the look on her face – between the storm and his yelling after her, she has every right to be wary. He tries not to look intimidating through the downpour as he struggles to get his breath back. He looks back toward the direction they’d come from, making sure that the mare isn’t actually being chased, though he isn’t sure he’d be able to spot anyone coming through the deluge.
Emmett barely has time to open his mouth to agree with the stranger’s assessment of the situation when he hears another female voice speak from right beside him. It isn’t Angeline, and his head snaps around so fast he’s surprised there’s no audible crack. Blinking raindrops from his gold eyes, he scans the newcomer, an unfamiliar gold and white figure with bicolored eyes.
”We aren’t hurt,” he tells her, figuring that the grey mare wouldn’t have been able to run so fast if she’d been injured. Still, he turns back to said grey mare to make sure that the actual run hadn’t done any damage.
The storm still cascades down around them, and when he sees a ground-to-sky bolt in the distance, he knows they need to take cover rather than getting too deep in a conversation while they’re so exposed. He casts his eyes around again, getting desperate to find someplace suitable to escort the two ladies. Over here, Angeline calls to him. His eyes skitter about frantically for her, finding her standing miraculously beside a rocky outcrop with an overhang suitable for their purpose.
He snorts and turns back to his companions, gesturing in the direction of the rocks. ”Let’s head that way,” he says loudly, hoping they’ll be willing to follow him.
He arches his neck to let the worst of the rain drip off his head as he trots toward Angeline. He catches himself from reaching out to her once he reaches the overhang, not wanting to have to explain her presence to the others. She remains at his side this time as he shakes himself off before checking to see if the mares have joined him. He doesn’t want his mere presence to make them risk their safety.
seven - classic champagne sabino - mixed - 16hh |