Posted on February 1, 2013 at 05:26:43 PM by S O L G A R
 "The man who fears losing has already lost." Where the hell is she? Solgar thinks sourly as his eyes scour the white-patched terrain of his home. In the bleak, early-spring sunlight, the melting snow seems to positively glow. But he has no eyes for such details; he is looking past the naked trees to his left and right, and peering across the vast expanse of tundra straight ahead of him all the way to the sea. Dotted upon the landscape in various shades are the silhouettes of the rest of his herd. But, as he stands at the base of the rocky slopes of the mountainous foothills overlooking the inlet, the warmth of the sun on his back, he cannot see a single sign of Winter.
Unaware that she is, in fact, right above him, tucked away into a secret cavern that he has not discovered in all his time living here, Solgar flicks his ears against his crest in frustration and begins to stalk further inland, towards the stream which snakes down from a crevice in the mountain and through the center of the inlet like a crack in a vast eggshell. Thankfully it is no longer frozen over, and its merry babbling draws him closer, making him aware suddenly of his thirst. The banks are still choked with shards of ice, however, so he steps carefully as he leans over to take a drink. Then there is stirring from behind him, up on the slope: the sound of branches creaking against the weight of a living, moving body. Instinctively the stallion balks, throwing up his head and charging into the stream as the jolt of fear sets his muscles alight. But one of his hooves slips on the ice, causing his leg to fold uselessly beneath him, so he falls like a stone onto his side in the freezing, rock-studded creek. Water splashes everywhere and the force of the fall pushes a deep grunt from his lungs. He rises awkwardly, limbs flailing as he attempts to regain his balance and eyes rolling as he watches the slopes for a sign of what had caused the unexpected noise. Through the trees, he can see a flash of gold. Winter. Cursing under his breath, he hops from the river, favoring the leg that had slipped. He can feel no pain as of yet, with the adrenaline of being frightened and the numbing chill of the water, but he's certain he had felt his limb twist in an unnatural direction. Dripping and shivering, he stands holding his left foreleg above the ground and glares at the area of the tree-covered hillside where he had spotted the palomino mare. "Well, get out here already!" he calls to her irritably, knowing she would easily have heard his tumble. S O L G A R 11; mustang; blue roan; 15'3hh; inlet; shiva |
Replies:
- From a summers thread - By Winter February 2, 2013 at 08:19:33 AM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R February 10, 2013 at 02:50:00 PM
- From a summers thread - By Winter February 10, 2013 at 06:01:18 PM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R February 19, 2013 at 05:28:14 PM
- x - By Solgar February 19, 2013 at 05:28:29 PM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R February 19, 2013 at 05:28:14 PM
- From a summers thread - By Winter February 10, 2013 at 06:01:18 PM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R February 10, 2013 at 02:50:00 PM
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