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Taytim
Chocolate colored ears flicked back at the sound of the stallion’s harsh voice again. The young lady was honestly surprised that he had spoken again. She turned her head to catch what he had said and contemplated his words. Once again her thoughts roamed over his body, the scars, and the gaping socket that still blinked at her. His words struck her as interesting. Wolves nipping at heels, when it was fairly clear that this man could have had wolves nipping at more than just that.
Had he said that to her a year ago, she might have been scared, she might not have thought about what the saying was actually saying, or she would not have tried to look at it from any different way. Today, she had traveled lands, spoken to horses whose words were foreign to her and they had found a common language. She had met a man whose story was deep, and rich, and still a mystery to her. All of these histories, these people, memories and thoughts had come to her and been something. Wolves could nip at her heels all they wanted, memories could chase her into quiet solitude, or they could urge her forward. The bites from this man’s wolves had hit home, they still bled, and Taytim felt like they were leaving him limping.
She turned to look back at him, better to see him and to speak. “Yes, but at least you are moving forward and they will keep you from falling behind. If your memories and past is filled with wolves, maybe it is a good thing they are sending you running away from it.” A small smile came onto her face. “Kick the wolves in the face, and start a new wherever you end up.”
~:Mare
~:Morgan Mutt
~:14.2hh
~:Black Chestnut
~:3 Years | |