I’m gonna count to ten and turn around and she’ll be right there, she has to be, Þoka tells herself, but her legs protest so much that instead she turns her head to give the watery horizon a quick scan. Nothing bobs out there except sunlight. She huffs a sigh and drops her head, letting it hang almost all the way down to the sand, so close her next inhale coats the inner lining of her nostrils with a few grains and she squeals sharply, enraged, and whirls to confront the ocean that had the gall to spit her out but swallow Fjö∂ur. “Fuck you!” she screams, and slams her front hooves into the tide.
Someone speaks to her left, the voice low and masculine and in her mothertongue what the fuck and Þoka’s head whips around so fast her forelock flies up to reveal both dark, accusing eyes to the stallion who’s approached. Her gaze flicks over him, quick, hard, and her jaw sets her face in a scowl. “Depends who’s asking,” she snaps. “If it’s you, I’m fine.”
He’s all banged up like stallions get, and while his ears are forward and his voice mild she knows what kind of vipers hide beneath the skins of others. His act can’t fool her. Only a matter of time before his fangs are revealed, and she has no interest in being near him when that inevitable strike comes. Her eyes skip to the grassy area leading away from the beach. It doesn’t look like the motherland, but she was being tossed around like a leaf in a gale for awhile there and it’s very possible she got turned enough around to swim straight back to the very shores she was trying to leave.
That’s probably why she’s lost Fjö∂ur, she decides, and straightens herself out to face the taller horse in case he gets any sneaky ideas. No doubt her friend is on the new beach and waiting for Þoka to show up. That’s all this is. She’s the one who’s missing, not Fjö∂ur. With that dilemma tidied up, it occurs to Þoka that she doesn’t recognize the stallion. She and Fjö∂ur have been all over the dratted land and met just about everybody there is to meet, and this guy isn’t one of them. She frowns. “Which herd is yours? I haven’t seen you before.” |