ours is the fury. Posted on December 3, 2014 at 02:54:37 AM by asp
He wasn’t looking for her.
Truth be told, Asp couldn’t remember the name of the pale draft mare who’d left the Forest with him two years ago. She’d been a glimmer of something else, something more, and it had been this dank forest on an obsolete island. He belonged here.
She was just a taste of the critters that called this island--Luthien--home.
And so the dun stallion returned to the rocky shores, the coniferous trees bending in the wind as a cold gray sea angrily punished the beach. He sniffed and smelled nothing familiar; the scent of the mare’s father missing from the salty air. No, something new had come and laid claim to the forest, and Asp’s ears flicked back as he shook himself off.
Despite the fury of the sea, the wind was warm, and it didn’t take long for Asp to dry. He no longer carried the thick winter coat of someone who resided on the arctic island year round, for he’d never returned to that desolate and wintry place after he left. Instead, he was a rather handsome nag, caught in the final throes of summer. Muscle and fat made his skin ripple and his eyes were bright.
They brightened even more when he spotted the mare drinking from the stream. He didn’t bother with announcing his arrival, certain that the breeze had taken care of that, and he approached with mischief in his heart.
He didn’t see another stallion around (though even if he had, it’s doubtful he would have cared.)
And that meant the mare--as well as the territory--was his.
He stopped in front of her and stomped a hoof as he gave his head a shake.
“Mine,’ he said simply, not expecting her to protest. Replies: