Common

The night sky erupted in a deafening roar that shattered the tranquility of his slumber. Wide-eyed and trembling, his gaze fixed on the raging storm that had engulfed the heavens. Fear gnawed at his very core, a palpable fear penetrated every fiber in his being.. Each deafening clap of thunder elicited an involuntary flinch, sending a surge of icy terror through his veins. He fought back the rising tide of panic that threatened to consume him, his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs.

It was a storm such as this, that had besieged them during their fateful swim to Tinuvel, a tempest that had transformed the once-placid sea into crashing waves and unrelenting fury. The memory of that harrowing ordeal sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn't shake the sense that this storm held the same relentless and unforgiving power.

His body crackled with the electrifying surge of adrenaline and raw, animalistic fear. The mere snap of a tree limb became his catalyst, sending his speckled stallion hurtling into the unforgiving storm. Its hooves thundered against the rain-drenched ground, tearing through the thick foliage and low-hanging branches. As he burst into a desolate clearing, the merciless rain lashed at his face like a relentless swarm of stinging bees.

Every fiber of his being screamed a warning, urging him to recoil from the tempest's wrath and seek shelter. But the primal instincts coursing through his veins propelled him forward, oblivious to the perils that lurked within the darkness. He finally slowed at the edge of the clearing, his sides heaved and his nostrils flared with every breath. Glacial blue eyes, cold and sharp, scanned the dark clearing, taking in every shadow, every illuminating flash of lightning, the crack of branches against each other in the wind. Then, in the far corner of his vision, a flicker of white. He focused, his pupils constricting, and there it was. Their coat shimmered with an otherworldly radiance, cutting a stark contrast against the pitch-black surroundings. As he observed them from a distance, his breath danced upon his whiskered lips, leaving a fleeting cloud in the cold air.

"A fylgja,"he whispered, his voice barely a breath. His father's words echoed in his memory, the tales of spirits sent to guide one's path. Cautiously, he trailed after the figure, his heart pounding with anticipation and his mind racing with possibilities.The imprints of their hooves left a faint trail upon the muddy ground, but as the heavens opened and a torrential downpour ensued, their tracks were relentlessly erased, swallowed by the ceaseless onslaught of rain. "No, no no!" he huffed as the tracks disappear completely.

Throughout the night until the heavens began to gray and lighten he searched for their tracks, until finally with an exasperated tired sigh, he stumbled into a clearing. His tired eyes looked up to find a brilliant white form in the middle of the clearing, their muzzle dipped to the ground. A wave of numbness washed over him as he approached with cautious steps. His ears twitched nervously, and his nostrils flared as he drew closer, his weary heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and anticipation.

As he paused, a faint smile tugged at his whiskered lips, breaking the silence that had consumed him. "Quite a storm we had last night," he uttered softly, his voice a mere echo amidst the desolation that surrounded them. His gaze shifted from her to the wind-ravaged trees, their shattered limbs strewn across the rain-soaked ground. A pang of concern washed over him as his eyes returned to her, noticing the fresh scrapes that marred her once pristine skin. "You are injured," he whispered, his brow furrowed in worry. "Are you alright?"