Equus: A Storm Horse's Journey
"A thousand ways. A thousand years. A thousand steps. They will begin and they will end, all riding upon the back of he who walks them."
Ty'Rekh was Tempest. She was a little Welsh pony, born and bred in a land of strange creatures and unusual happenings. She was able to fend off imps, minor trickster-fey and the odd wolf. She knew this land and journeyed it with a firm heart. She was a pony, a horse in her own right if not by size. And she had a rider.
With her burden of children released to one capable of caring for them, Ty'Rekh looked forward. She went forward, returning to follow the path she took to get here. Only now, she took it to return to that whom she called Rider.
The little pony ate as she traveled, grazing when she needed to and sleeping with the dark. She didn't know how long it was going to be, only that she was to return and that she was against a deadline. The creature Renne, her rider, had been fighting wasn't one she could take. Or face. She, in her animal mind, hoped he could take it on and come out on the other side. It had been raining when she left. She was used to the rain but it didn't mean she had to like it. The rain meant something to her rider, something terrible. She knew he hated the rain.
He did so hate the rain but he loved her. So she stayed by him.
She was an animal. This was what she knew. She knew capricious human acts by witnessing them. She knew distrust through her rider, who had been burned too many times. She knew joy when her rider groomed her and took her on an exhilarating ride.
She was an animal and this was what she knew.
What she accepted.
Ty'Rekh avoided humans whenever possible, not only out of mimicked distrust but to avoid tainting herself with another's scent. She belonged to Renne. He was her rider. No one else. He didn't "own" her, no. It was a kind of harmony between them, when one would sometimes assert and the other submit. Other times, he submitted to her. It was the way they worked.
As the fourth day faded into night, she began to count her own hoof beats. She was dirty. Exhausted. But she was coming closer, if the sulfuric stink on the wind was any indication. The little Welshie ate some grass, then picked up her pace. The sounds of battle reached her ears.
She crested a final rise in the ground and whinnied, rearing at the sight of the beast before her. She witnessed a final blaze. The silence crept in, bringing shadows and embers with it.
Ty'Rekh waited for the chaos to abate. She crept forward, snorting low in fear. Her left eye caught sight of the carnage first and shed the first tear.
The rain poured in the dark. In the aftermath, a little Welsh pony stood over what remained of her rider, frozen in place by a hollowness that allowed her to stay there. By that same hollowness, the rain chilled her bones and tainted her fur. By that same hollowness, the thought of food escaped her. Thought fled from the mortal pony, oblivious to the days and weeks.
She didn't feel herself grow thinner. She didn't feel herself grow colder.
She was a horse standing guard over something that was no longer here.
"A thousand ways. A thousand years. A thousand steps. They will begin and they will end, all riding upon the back of he who walks them."
Ty'Rekh was Tempest. She was a little Welsh pony, born and bred in a land of strange creatures and unusual happenings. She was able to fend off imps, minor trickster-fey and the odd wolf. She knew this land and journeyed it with a firm heart. She was a pony, a horse in her own right if not by size. And she had a rider.
With her burden of children released to one capable of caring for them, Ty'Rekh looked forward. She went forward, returning to follow the path she took to get here. Only now, she took it to return to that whom she called Rider.
The little pony ate as she traveled, grazing when she needed to and sleeping with the dark. She didn't know how long it was going to be, only that she was to return and that she was against a deadline. The creature Renne, her rider, had been fighting wasn't one she could take. Or face. She, in her animal mind, hoped he could take it on and come out on the other side. It had been raining when she left. She was used to the rain but it didn't mean she had to like it. The rain meant something to her rider, something terrible. She knew he hated the rain.
He did so hate the rain but he loved her. So she stayed by him.
She was an animal. This was what she knew. She knew capricious human acts by witnessing them. She knew distrust through her rider, who had been burned too many times. She knew joy when her rider groomed her and took her on an exhilarating ride.
She was an animal and this was what she knew.
What she accepted.
Ty'Rekh avoided humans whenever possible, not only out of mimicked distrust but to avoid tainting herself with another's scent. She belonged to Renne. He was her rider. No one else. He didn't "own" her, no. It was a kind of harmony between them, when one would sometimes assert and the other submit. Other times, he submitted to her. It was the way they worked.
As the fourth day faded into night, she began to count her own hoof beats. She was dirty. Exhausted. But she was coming closer, if the sulfuric stink on the wind was any indication. The little Welshie ate some grass, then picked up her pace. The sounds of battle reached her ears.
She crested a final rise in the ground and whinnied, rearing at the sight of the beast before her. She witnessed a final blaze. The silence crept in, bringing shadows and embers with it.
Ty'Rekh waited for the chaos to abate. She crept forward, snorting low in fear. Her left eye caught sight of the carnage first and shed the first tear.
The rain poured in the dark. In the aftermath, a little Welsh pony stood over what remained of her rider, frozen in place by a hollowness that allowed her to stay there. By that same hollowness, the rain chilled her bones and tainted her fur. By that same hollowness, the thought of food escaped her. Thought fled from the mortal pony, oblivious to the days and weeks.
She didn't feel herself grow thinner. She didn't feel herself grow colder.
She was a horse standing guard over something that was no longer here.