Stonebloods - Chapter One, Origins

While it was true that Dog had only been pursuing the idea of his own herd for a short while, he had been along for much, much longer. 

It all began with his parents. They were loving, strong parents who would do anything for their children, but they were too trusting. One day, his father allowed in a strange stallion who the young male had noticed had been trailing the herd. In any normal situation, this would have been perfectly fine. After all, herds expanded and shrank often and it was not only natural but necessary to bring in fresh blood. Even so, it had been a hasty decision.

For this stallion was being hunted.

He had done some crime, perhaps crushing a Skinner’s child or stealing too close for comfort. In the night, flames broke out among the herd and they scattered, terrified and dumbed by the flames. Too many had fallen that night for Dog to want to count. More still had been dragged away by the Skinners, likely to fill their bellies.

From that moment on, Dog had been alone.

The mountains of Fyres were his home and yet, he was homeless. He had managed on his own for so long that when spring came and the stirring in his heart forced him onward, he had trouble determining what it was. He had pushed down the desire to set up with others for so long that when it finally broke through, he struggled with the very idea. The desire finally found words in his heart. It was time.

He moved towards the valley - one he had sensed was active. Dog had heard rumors about this land, that this neutral hollow was where lonely horses gathered in order to seek out new families. He’d ignored it up until now, but today was a new day. He climbed down the cliffs deftly, moving towards a rock plateau that rose gently above the valley. Far below, he could see the moving shapes of strangers. Scents of mares and stallions alike swept up towards him, carried along a crisp spring breeze. Their scents pulled up into his nostrils and he closed his eyes, basking in the odor that for so long he had avoided.

How strange it was that the changing of seasons could change a stallion’s heart.

Dog turned, moving to a smoother slope, when a hole caught his hoof and he stumbled forward, sinking to his knees. He snorted furiously, twisting his head around to examine the injury.

Just a scratch. 

After waiting a long moment to make sure that no predators were watching, he slowly rose to his hooves, testing the hoof - and winced at the pain.

Not just a scratch.

A sprain. Great. Just what he needed. He shook his mane in annoyance before slowly beginning to pick up his pace. It was minor enough to mask when it mattered.

“Ahoy there!” a voice broke out over the breeze. Dog froze, twisting his ears around to locate the source of the voice. It was male. Young. Eager. He located the stallion and turned to look at him, observing the youngster as he came up the hill towards him. “I’m Buck!”

Dog eyed the russet horse carefully, giving him a long stare and trying to determine what his deal was. The male was clearly a bachelor, with a long mane similar to his own but with a smooth, unruffled coat. No scents of mares or even other stallions hung to his coat.

Sure, ok. Whatever.

“Hello, Buck. I’m Dog,” he said carefully, shifting his weight so his injury wouldn’t be detected. Too bad Buck had a keen eye, for the chestnut male had already noticed. Lucky for Dog, he had a bit more tact than to point it out, at least not yet. “Have you been here long?”

Buck seemed to consider the question before giving a soft stamp - his equivalent of a shrug, “I suppose you could say that. I’ve been here since winter. I don’t have your thick coat, but it’s warm enough in the valley.”

Dog rolled his tongue in his mouth thoughtfully. “I’ve never been this close to the valley - is it true that everyone here is without a herd?” He eyed the various figures across the grassland. None seemed to be too close to any other. “It seems like it would be apt for you to all build a herd together.” Honestly, why hadn’t they?

Buck laughed awkwardly, giving a bit of a shrug. “You’d think, but for some reason nobody here wants to make the plunge. I guess most horses here are more followers than leaders.” He seemed a bit shy about this bit, by the way his voice softened slightly. The chestnut male was clearly thinking about something, but Dog didn’t want to pry. Not yet.

Ah, he might as well go for it, “Well, would you be willing to join me in building a herd? On a trial basis, of course.” He prayed he wasn’t falling into the same trap that his father had, so many years ago.

Buck’s eyes lit up eagerly, “I thought you’d never ask!” He laughed and shook his head before continuing, in a slightly more respectable tone. “Yes, sir, I’d be honored.”

More than honored, Dog guessed by the way he’d jumped at the opportunity. “In that case, do you have any sprain-relief knowledge? The terrain here was rough and I feel-” but Buck was already nodding his head and trotting towards a bush, which he dug about in for a moment. Dog tilted his ears, unsure, until Buck came back with a mouthful of leaves.

“Here, chew this to a pulp. I don’t know much, but I know this will numb it for a bit. Cooling water, too, will help.” Buck said, dropping the plants at his feet and blinking up at the older horse.

“Ah... thanks.” Dog said, eyeing the male before eyeing the plants.

Oh well, we’ll see how this goes.