~ where innocences burn in flames.
He slept restlessly with his dreams tainted with the contorted face of his brother as he attacked him and the sound of his haunting voice wraps itself around him. What had his brother become? Where was the soft spoken boy of his childhood? Björn opens his glacial eyes suddenly, his sides heave and his nostrils flare as he recalls the menacing look in his brothers dark eyes.
He shifts his weight on his hooves as he passes a glance over the women of his herd who all slumber within this quaint jungle clearing. A thin sliver of moon only adds a faint silve hue over their sleeping forms. He sighs and pushes himself from his resting place and heads toward the ocean. He knows a cool swim will chase away those pesky thoughts. With each stride sleep abandons him and is replaced with a purpose as he strides to the frothy surf.
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His hooves find purchase against the sandy shore as he pulls himself on to the Crossing. He lifts his crown higher onto his thick neck that bulges with muscle and sinew. Glacial eyes scan the beach before he steps through the surf and onto the hardened sand just beyond the water's reach. He pauses with a breath and a slap of his water logged tail across his white splashed hindquarters. A movement farther down the shore draws his attention, a pair of horses have also pulled themselves ashore.
He treads across the sands with careful steps. As he draws nearer his glacial eyes flick over the pair, a slender mare with a yearling at her side. His ears swivel atop his crown as he draws nearer. He begins to take notice of the weariness in her eyes and the gauntness of her hips. He knows that the journey to the Isles tends to be either a glorious adventure or one that is plagued with misfortune.
"Are you two okay?" he asks as he extends his muzzle across the narrow space to greet her in a formal way. He arches his muscled neck and pulls his head back after they exchange breaths. His glacial eyes flick to the yearling and can see that he is exhausted from their journey. "As a native to these IsleS. I know where there is an abundance of grass and water to quench your hunger and your thirst."
Björn - Icelandic mutt - 10 years old - Grullo Sabino
Bera Konung of the Ridge