Posted on February 9, 2013 at 11:57:09 PM by S O L G A R
 "The man who fears losing has already lost." Head hanging low near the ground, he watches the tendons shifting beneath the black fur and skin of his leg as he slowly and carefully lowers his hoof onto the cold dirt. For a second, all is well. He feels nothing but the gentle pressure of the earth beneath him. Relief courses through him. Deluded by hope, he leans forward, easing his full weight onto the limb.
The resulting jolt of white-hot pain makes him cry out and stumble backwards in an instinctive attempt to get away from the sensation. He stands helpless with his left foreleg lifted in the air, gritting his teeth, and can do nothing but wait for the throbbing to subside. It has been a week since he slipped and twisted his pastern in the icy brook that zig-zags through the heart of the inlet, and there has been little improvement in its condition. Snorting, Solgar lifs his head and looks around. He can see the striking gold silhouette of Winter not too far away, but no one else. His herd has more or less completely dissipated. Even Neassa has been in hiding for a day now, though he thinks he might know the reason for this. The last time he had seen her, there had been quivers of movement rippling beneath the surface of her barrel, making him worry that his child was trying to claw its way out of her. It's too soon, he thinks. I'm not ready yet. I can't run; I can hardly walk. I'm a cripple and I don't know how to be a father. He has just turned to limp towards Winter to rant about his troubles to her,when there is a sudden crashing behind him, accompanied by childish laughter, and followed a millisecond later by the forceful thud of something warm and solid against his back legs. Spinning around and away from the potential threat as quickly as his bad leg will allow, he comes face to face with... ...the very miniature of Neassa. Wide-eyed and frowning with bewilderment, his ears pinned back against his head and his mouth open in a silent 'O', the stallion watches the tiny, innocent creature staring back at him. Little details about the child are frighteningly familiar. Heart pounding, he refuses to believe. When movement in his peripheral vision draws his gaze upwards, he meets the eyes of Neassa beyond, who watches them with an uncertain expression atop the snowy hill the colt had tumbled down. He says nothing, but his dark eyes say everything. S O L G A R 11; mustang; blue roan; 15'3hh; inlet; shiva |
Replies:
- you haven't lost - By Yoren February 11, 2013 at 02:08:25 PM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R February 19, 2013 at 05:42:08 PM
- you haven't lost - By Yoren February 27, 2013 at 10:48:44 PM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R March 2, 2013 at 04:02:04 PM
- you haven't lost - By Yoren March 3, 2013 at 00:54:55 AM
- x - By Solgar March 7, 2013 at 05:45:00 PM
- you haven't lost - By Yoren March 3, 2013 at 00:54:55 AM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R March 2, 2013 at 04:02:04 PM
- you haven't lost - By Yoren February 27, 2013 at 10:48:44 PM
- he who fears losing has already lost - By S O L G A R February 19, 2013 at 05:42:08 PM
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