Dögun
We'll ride in the gathering storm
Ochre colored eyes scan the tundra before the grullo, in amazement he had watched the dull browns of the end of summer transform into the crimson, oranges, and yellows of Fall. Each night the temperature dipped further, and its chill still clung until the noon-time sun chased it away. As the grullo set out on his daily border patrol, his dark nostrils gathering in the scents that he was bombarded with. As the trail leads him north into the dark pine forest, his hooves set into the ground eating tölt. As the wind caresses the trees, a new scent floods his nostrils. Halting in mid-stride, his crown raised on muscled sinewy neck.
Eyes search for an intruder, they fall on the familiar palomino body of Grai's mare Soda, but the mare was trotting towards the North. Swivelling his body away from his trail, he sets off following Soda. Cautiously he trots after her, as he follows quietly behind the trio of horses, his eyes are constantly scanning for an unfamiliar equine. Slowing to a walk, he scans the horizon until his eyes fall upon two forms heading down from the Bay. Nervously he halts, waiting unsure if he should continue forward or wait until they met, than he would approach asking his questions. As the horses moved towards each other, he finds that their body language is relaxed.
Picking up a trot, he moves towards the meeting that was taking place. Nearing the group, he was close enough to engage in conversation but far enough away that he felt he was safe. Listening to the introduction, he finds it curious the similarities that Soda had with the bay. "I am Dögun. What is your purpose in crossing my borders?" It was his duty to find the reason behind their visiting. Perhaps it was just a family reunion, or something more.
word count: 314
Icelandic | Grullo [ Ee aa Dd] | 13.2 hh
King of the Inlet
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