Falls

A wet sounding snort interrupts my dreams.

I begrudgingly open one eye, and then the other, allowing myself time to adjust to the bright morning that has begun to engulf the Falls. With a mind full of sleep-inhibiting thoughts, I left the boundaries of my home last night with the intentions of mulling over my new agenda- I want the Lagoon. I want to see it fat with brothers and I want to see it twinkle with trinkets. I want to re-instill the fear that the Lagoon once carried and I want to be the one that is in control. I recently met the current Boss and I am fairly certain that takeover is going to be messy and violent, but this does not bother me in the slightest. If anything, I am excited by the prospect of bloodshed, whether it is mine or Kasabian’s.

The constant drone of the Falls must have been the perfect lullaby for my tired mind, and as I slowing move towards the water for a drink I conclude that I must have fallen asleep here in the early hours of this morning. As the cold water slips down my gullet, it chases the last remnants of sleep from my brain and by the time that her soft scent finds me, I am completely awake. I consider leaving now, quickly before the thing sees me and tries to interact, but I keep my position next to the water and eye the steel-coloured dame as she nears.

With a blank expression and a serious tone, I decide to play with the mare. ”I wouldn’t drink that water if I was you.” I start, water droplets hanging from my whiskered maw ”The beast will get you”. I am a natural joker; it is something I have done since I was a colt. Although most believe I do it to be funny, to be humorous, I have come to realise that it is just another way I can exert power over a situation- or in this case, a mare.

FRIESIAN MUTT | SIXTEEN TWO HANDS | TWELVE YEARS