HUSH, CHILD, THE DARKNESS WILL RISE FROM THE DEEP
He can still hear their screams. Half drowned out by the storm. The storm...that damn storm. Braith didn't listen. The sky had turned dark and twisted, a warning of what was to come. He dared not leave their home on that rocky beach. He had cultivated a place for his herd; his mares and children were safe...or so he thought. Some dragged out to sea, others impaled upon the crags, while others had much worse fates in the shallows.
Braith awakens with a jolt. His brow and neck are soaked with sweat, the white foam near invisible against his mostly pale coat. Slowly the stallion shifts, dragging his legs through the dirt. Bits of stone and twig scratched against his leg and he savored the feeling. It was far better than how he felt in his nightmares.
At least he knew he was awake.
Dragging himself to his feet, Braith turns in the direction he can smell water. Fresh water. He smacks together his dry lips, aware that he must venture to find water again-- not matter how much he wished he didn't have to.
It doesn't take long for him to find the falls, following the sounds of the cascading water. Slowly he approaches the water's edge, peering down at his own reflection. His face is almost unrecognizable. The scars that he once wore so proudly are a stark reminded that he did not succeed at protecting his family.
Hesitantly he lowers his head to drink, choosing a spot along the shore where he can see the bottom of the lake. He gulps greedily, hoping he might not need to return for longer. He drinks until his stomach hurts and he lifts his head, water dripping down his mouth and neck. But he does not tear himself from the water's edge, dark eyes focused upon the weary face that stares back up at him.
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