Common

I remember now, why I hated the ocean so goddamn much.

I wasn't even sure how I had managed to make landfall during the storm. Every time I had thought I was making progress, another wave had forced me below the surface and slammed me against the rocky shallows. By the time I had crawled my way free of the undertow, a host of new scrapes and cuts littered my body and each breath brought a stabbing pain in my lungs. Even the steps I took ashore were shaky with exhaustion and I could feel my vision blurring as I tried to gain my bearings through the sheets of heavy, blowing rain. I gave up trying to figure out where I was eventually and stumble-stepped my way to a nearby copse of trees to rest.

A few fitful hours later, I peered out at an unfamiliar clearing with suspicion. There were no familiar landscapes on the horizon, nor even the dry desert-like climate I had become accustomed to. This place was rich and lush, dotted with happy, smiling horses like some sort of storybook fantasy.

It was disgusting.

My lip wrinkled as I turned away. Something about inanely happy people grated on my nerves and I didn't have the patience to deal with their crap this morning. Every bone in my body was aching and sore, and as I yawned, I could feel that my ribs were certainly bruised, if not cracked, from where I'd been thrown against the rocks. It wasn't the first time, nor the last if I had to guess, but it wasn't particularly convenient either. A survey of the damage tallied several new marks on my muddy coat, some of them crusted over with dried blood. Altogether, not bad for an escape, although I still wasn't sure where exactly I had ended up.

I moved away from the copse of trees with some reluctance, my joints stiff and screaming in protest. It felt as though I'd aged ten years overnight, and it left me on edge. The last thing I needed right now was to be a sitting duck; if they found me here, I knew they would take me out and gleefully so after what I'd done. The memory of the raid - of the girlish screams of the filly I had captured and of the satisfying crunch of her father's skull - lifted my mood and erased the lingering sneer from my lips. Maybe I could find similar enjoyments here.

My gaze lifts to the various figures dotted around with renewed interest, but I made no move to join them. Their cotton candy fantasies did not yet hold any interest for me. For now, I needed to find a way to take care of myself while I got the lay of the land. Once I was established and recovered, I would have to look into what opportunities I could find. For now, I settled in under the summer sun and cocked a hind hoof as I waited. Someone would show up sooner or later, I was sure of it.

Flaxen Liver Chestnut Overo . loveinspired