The stallion advances, a malicious expression burning in his eyes, and Rhadra inadvertently takes a step back, then another, feeling the trunk of the tree she intended to sleep beneath press roughly against her hindquarters, pinning half her tail and roughing her skin with its uneven bark. This discomfort is nothing compared to the way the stallion’s expression makes her quail. Rhadra’s ears lay flat, eyes rolling as she pulls her head out of reach, anticipating hot breath and the sudden pinch of teeth on her vulnerable face.
Talya’s shout startles her badly, sour sweat suddenly patching her withers as the stallion relents. He is evil. She knows it. He knows it, admits to it, and still the girl does not comprehend. Rhadra stands with an ill-concealed shudder, tight-lipped and tense as she watches the exchange between the innocent and the vile. Her fear is real now, and heightened because the danger is no longer restricted just to the girl, but could be inflicted against her.
Still, she will not just walk away from this.
His smile, his false assurances to Talya make the vanner’s stomach churn. “You’re reprehensible,” she says, but her voice is light and a little breathless. What is she doing? She has no herd to retreat to. Not a friend anywhere near her. Her eyes slide to Talya. She has no allies, either, save one: Rhadra, trembling, steps forward to resume her defiant stance before the stallion. She ignores his contrived attempt to smooth the conversation.
“You get out of here,” she tells the stallion, and though her knees shake and her heart pounds her gaze is steady, her voice steadying with conviction. “Go alone. Take your nastiness straight to the ocean and drown it. The world doesn’t need horses like you in it. It needs horses like Talya. You leave her be, and you go now.” She takes another step forward, angling her body to begin acting as a wedge between the stallion and Talya. “She doesn’t deserve your abuse, and I won’t stand here and watch you lie to her. Go. Alone.” |