Orhan

The water rushed cold against his ears. Instinct compelled him to keep his eyes closed and his nostrils pinched shut as tightly as he could manage, but water still crept in, making his chest burn with the urge to cough. He resisted as best he could, pumping his legs and stretching his neck as far as it would go in hopes of getting his head above water. But the tides were ferocious and dizzying, and very quickly Orhan became unsure which direction was up. I'm going to die, he thought distantly. Strangely, he felt no panic at this realization, only disbelief. This could not be happening to him, not today.

Then his mane caught on something - or rather, something caught hold of his mane - and tugged so hard that he thought his hair would rip out. The stallion felt something warm and soft collide with him: something big, something alive. In surprise, he opened his eyes beneath water. He was momentarily aware of something black and white - Arcana - before the salt stung too much and he squeezed them shut again. He could feel Arcana pulling on his mane with all her might, and he added to her strength with one last barrage of desperate kicks. His nose briefly broke water, allowing him one quick breath, before he was pulled under again.

His body then collided with something else: something much harder and sharper. A rock. He grunted as its irregular edges scraped against his legs and barrel, and instinctively tried to push away from it. But his hooves caught on something - a toehold - and though it was ruthlessly painful for his delicate frogs, Orhan managed to steady himself on the jagged ledge. His head broke water. He sucked in a huge breath and blinked rapidly, and was about to turn his head and look for Arcana amongst the angry waves when he heard an ominous crescendo that could mean only one thing.

Before he could so much as turn his head to eyeball the encroaching tidal wave, it had crashed on top of them, sucking Orhan away from his rock and pulling him beneath water again. All the breath was ripped from his lungs as though he had been kicked in the gut. He was stunned, helpless as the water surged and spun him about.

The next thing he knew, he was on his side in the sand, with the shore lapping tamely at his legs. He was soaked and sore, his head groggy as if he had been knocked unconscious for a minute or two. Orhan took a moment to cough up the remnants of water in his lungs. Then, instinctively, he attempted to stand, and almost immediately stumbled over again. His left front leg screamed when he put weight on it, and when he lowered his head to examine it, he saw that it was bleeding from a superficial wound too.

Weak from shock and soaked to the bone, the stallion stood and trembled for lack of anything better to do.