Dögun
We'll ride in the gathering storm
Tension was in the air that surrounded the Inlet, a heightened state of anxiety, a feeling that wrapped itself around the grullo pony. As the morning wore on, and the border patrol almost finished, he heads away from the northern border towards the herd. With each stride, he feels an urgency growing within his chest, a feeling that he could not shake. As he nears the herd, their unrest confirming that there was something horribly wrong in the Inlet. In a panic he searches for Macabre, he had known that this day had been coming, but now it was here. With stiff anxious, strides he trots past the herd, a single nod in their direction. He heads in the direction that he had last seen Macabre and Shiraz.
As he trots into the clearing, his dread spread with each stride that he took. The scent of death was heavy here, he swallows hard, and continues his stiff trot though the clearing. There in the grass, almost motionless lay the meek form of Shiraz. He barely held onto life, panic rises in Dögun's chest. Where was Macabre? He jerks his head back and forth, desperately searching for the chestnut, only to find that her scent lingered.
Anger begins to rise in his chest, she must have a good reason for leaving Shiraz. Right? Ochre eyes fall upon the colt, he quietly approaches the dyeing colt. The colt fights the cold, fights the darkness that was beginning to settle around him. "Oh, Shiraz. I am soo sorry." Dropping his dark muzzle to Shiraz's ribs, he rests his muzzle there for minutes, trying his best to comfort the colt. As Shiraz struggles to breath, Dögun's heart aches, knowing the hard truth. That the colt needed to have his life ended. As the minutes tick by, he can feel the breeze, he can hear the shallow breathing of the colt.
He knew that he would have to go after Macabre, to bring her home. She needed the support of her family during this time, yet he still lingered at the colt's side. He couldn't bring himself to leave, his heartache consumed him. He was alone with this ailing colt. With this loneliness, a single tear slides down his dark face, it landed on the sooty colt's quivering coat.
word count: 384
Icelandic | Grullo [ Ee aa Dd] | 13.2 hh
King of the Inlet
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