The chestnut lay on the warm sand, his body in twitching and trembling in pain that ebbed and flowed like waves to a beach. His body littered with bites, cuts and scrapes each one exuding it’s own amount of blood. But those were minor irritants next to knees. They burned as if a fire had been set inside them. The skin shaved off both from the fight, he couldn’t even remember how, perhaps when he took that fall down a rocky incline, but even that wasn’t the worst. As he lay there, not evening wanting to breath, unable to will himself to right himself from the burning in his knees it was his left eye that hurt the most. Hurt was an understatement, excruciating, agonizing his head… he’d never felt such pain and wished he never had. He couldn’t see anything from it, just blackness but he could feel quite a bit of wetness down his neck and side of his face. The kick is what had made him fall down the rocky incline, landing where he lay now with the smug dolt looking at him from above. He would gain his land, his herd and his pride.
Groaning, trying to stand, the imbecile had gone, gone to flatter my mares, my family, my Dulce. The thought enraged him, the thought of some cocky, young stranger not only taking over his role among his mares, but to his Dulce. Dulce being the lead mare and the sole reason he had even fought for the herd those years ago, he’d come to love all his mares but she was special. And now, that bay idiot would have her, no, she wouldn’t do that. She’ll spit venom at the fool and come with me. But she hadn’t, she had looked at him with pity and even distain when he finally came around a couple days later. Telling him “it’s life” before turning from him. Leaving his “old,” batter and bloody body standing there like a fool as the smug bay looked on and welcomed her to his side with a nuzzle.
6 months later he was here, where ever here was. His wounds had healed, even his eye, or rather socket. It still pained him from time to time, still seeped slightly some days more than others and was unslightly but it hadn’t killed him. The bites, cuts and scrapes had healed and were nothing more than scars now, his knees had healed as well although the hair had grown in oddly, sparse and darker. He had kept to himself these past months, healing physically but mentally he was still an open wound. His health hadn’t suffered, even though Dulce had considered him “old” his health was still excellent and he’d regained his strength. While others had grown thin and would grow thin he was still in top order.
Where he stood now, amongst some bare shrub twigs he could see the stranger. He watched for a moment, caring not to garner her attention or vice versa. She was staring at the frozen water in awe it seemed. Strange, spritely mare. He gave out a huff and returned his head to the ground, pawing at the snow to reach anything edible beneath.