A Lonely Ride
Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2019 4:56 pm
The horse struggled to keep his footing on the snow-covered road, the occasional pothole hidden beneath the fine white crust causing him to falter. The thin cotton caparison that he wore as his only protection was torn and puckered, partially from neat slashes and otherwise through small bloodied holes where it was hard to tell at what point the edges of singed fabric stopped and his open wounds began. Blood freely ran down his flank, dripping and leaving an ever growing spotted trail back to where his journey began.
Another traveler appeared from the snowstorm, riding south as fast as they could safely on the hazardous road. Before closing the distance enough to discern the horse and his package, the stranger raised his hand in greeting and tried to yell out something through the wind.
The horse, of course, did not reply.
When they were barely feet away, the blanket of white fading to nothing more than a swirl of grey, the rider noticeably flinched and pulled on the rein of his steed hard enough to yank it to the side of the road. The pair stood there, waiting. Watching. Not moving until they were once again lost within the snow.
The horse ignored them, continuing on his way.
Road turned to dirt, grass, and leaves. White and grey broke into greens, browns and blues but still the horse continued to force itself onward, ignoring the weight that caused him to still stumble over exposed branches that he would otherwise have deftly avoided at a full gallop. Injuries, the stillness on his back, and the long day were all taking its toll but still he pressed on as his goal was nearing. The undergrowth rustled all around, the branches above him creaked as many things unseen moved all around. They hissed.
The horse ignored them, knowing it was safe and continued on his way.
The forest grew silent again, everything living nearby long having learned that if it wanted to survive that it was best to never be seen or heard. Slowly, with every unsteady step, the air grew heavier and the green became more muted with grey. The sounds of life, the bustle of people and activity also began to pierce the gaps between the trees.
The horse continued, neither hurrying or slowing.
Abruptly, the towering shapes of trees ceased to exist, leaving nothing but an endless rolling mist. Vague shapes passed through the fog, others rose and sank on unseen tides. Cries began to ring out. They were tinged with alarm and shock, but not fear. Only now did the horse begin to slow, letting the weight of his long journey finally wash over him before finally collapsing and letting his burden sprawl from his back to lie on the ground.
His part was done.
(So. Not in the present, but something I could have imagined happened on occasions when I hit DEPART. Been threatening to write something like it for a while and finally gave in. Good Horse.)
Another traveler appeared from the snowstorm, riding south as fast as they could safely on the hazardous road. Before closing the distance enough to discern the horse and his package, the stranger raised his hand in greeting and tried to yell out something through the wind.
The horse, of course, did not reply.
When they were barely feet away, the blanket of white fading to nothing more than a swirl of grey, the rider noticeably flinched and pulled on the rein of his steed hard enough to yank it to the side of the road. The pair stood there, waiting. Watching. Not moving until they were once again lost within the snow.
The horse ignored them, continuing on his way.
Road turned to dirt, grass, and leaves. White and grey broke into greens, browns and blues but still the horse continued to force itself onward, ignoring the weight that caused him to still stumble over exposed branches that he would otherwise have deftly avoided at a full gallop. Injuries, the stillness on his back, and the long day were all taking its toll but still he pressed on as his goal was nearing. The undergrowth rustled all around, the branches above him creaked as many things unseen moved all around. They hissed.
The horse ignored them, knowing it was safe and continued on his way.
The forest grew silent again, everything living nearby long having learned that if it wanted to survive that it was best to never be seen or heard. Slowly, with every unsteady step, the air grew heavier and the green became more muted with grey. The sounds of life, the bustle of people and activity also began to pierce the gaps between the trees.
The horse continued, neither hurrying or slowing.
Abruptly, the towering shapes of trees ceased to exist, leaving nothing but an endless rolling mist. Vague shapes passed through the fog, others rose and sank on unseen tides. Cries began to ring out. They were tinged with alarm and shock, but not fear. Only now did the horse begin to slow, letting the weight of his long journey finally wash over him before finally collapsing and letting his burden sprawl from his back to lie on the ground.
His part was done.
(So. Not in the present, but something I could have imagined happened on occasions when I hit DEPART. Been threatening to write something like it for a while and finally gave in. Good Horse.)