Stonebloods - Chapter One, Origins

The three horses slowed from a run, hooves squelching into the cold, wet ground. This truly was a sight to see. Dog surveyed the scene, instantly hesitant to put their new mare friend in danger, especially with how vulnerable she and her unborn foal were.

Before them spread a tar pit, which had somehow attracted more creatures than he would have guessed. Tar was insidious and deadly - if you ran at night you might fall headfirst into it and end up starving to death among the other unfortunate souls.

He stood still and somber as he remembered witnessing a close friend come to that very same demise.

They’d gone for a midnight run, youth still burning in their veins. Not even a year old, they were lanky and noisy foals, excitable and mischevious. They broke all the rules whenever they could, and that night his friend paid the price.
They’d come running over a foothill, racing one another to prove some superiority, when the ground crumbled beneath his friend. The other foal tumbled headfirst into the hollow, surprised whinny morphing into something much more viscous. The young Dog rushed to the edge, where he peeked over warily. Below him, a young tar pit lay, its black tendrils gripping the younger foal, pulling him deeper and deeper with every kick and pull as he tried to clear his head for air.

Dog panicked and run for help, but it was to no avail. By the time they returned, his friend had suffocated - the only things that were left were four hooves sticking out of the bubbling black goop.

The grullo stallion tossed his head to look at Buck and Goose.

“Help the elk,” he ordered, waiting just a moment before kicking off and running towards the gang of hell pigs and the bear, hoping that his new herd would take his first order to heart. He wasn’t sure why, but it just felt important that he do this rather than personally help his own herbivorous kind.

Perhaps he just wanted the hell-pigs to meet their demise.

He came around from behind a bush, tattered and scrawny as it was, to burst directly into the fray. He came at one of the hell pigs first, swinging around to hit the large animal with the bulk of his side. While the pigs had massive height, even taller than himself in some cases, he nearly doubled them in weight individually.

One pig, a boar, saw Dog coming and snapped out, its jaws closing mere inches away from his incoming body. The bear took this moment to her advantage and lunged at the pig, her jaws crunching into the thick skin of its neck. it screamed, bucking against the bear and grabbing at her with its own very capable jaws.

The entelodont he targetted was caught unaware, its tusks snapping shut on open air where the bear’s face would have been mere seconds ago. The horse’s side made heavy contact, shoving most of his weight against it so it would tumble away from the fight. It squealed furiously, trying to twist around to bite at him. Its jaws snapped shut on open air as it lost its footing in the wet ground and stumbled, its weight thrown off balance. It tried to right itself but fell, tumbling down the small hill and away from the fray. Its furious cries turned to fear as it fought against its new home: the tar.  

Dog scrabbled away, using the returned force from the static pig to his advantage as he moved back from the edge, back towards the others. He felt something hot and wet on his thigh and he instinctively shoved his weight to his forehooves and kicked out. One hoof hit with a satisfying wet crack and the other glanced off of what he assumed was the neck of the pig.

He twisted around to see the young pig stumbling backward, its pained squeals gurgling out of its broken maw. He could see the fear and pain in its eyes, but so too could he see anger. These beasts were predators, he reminded himself as he reared, kicking out with his forehooves to force the young pig back.

Left alone in the tar, the doomed pig struggled against the black substance, squealing first with indignance, then with terror.

The young pig came out of its stupor, stumbling away. It spat out blood and squealed at its packmates, panic in its young voice. The boar caught with the bear screamed back, violently shoving her aside and storming after the young pig, jaws gnashing over its shoulder in case the horse or the bear tried to follow.

The Horse and the Bear. Ha.

Dog watched the pigs go to the sound of their own kind crying helplessly in the tar. He was dazed, wordless and motionless as his breaths slowed and his heart rate slowed. Suddenly, he seemed to remember where he was, and turned with a start to face the bear, his ears up and pointed at it and his whites showing dangerously - a warning.

The she-bear had crumbled to the ground, nursing her wounds while keeping an eye on the horse. Though they were the victors, she had several lacerations that would take some time healing. She seemed worn out, too, and Dog didn’t think she had it in her to get up and try to take him on.

He tilted his head and pawed at her curiously with a hoof. When she did not respond aggressively, he rested a hoof gently on her side and nudged her. This caused a response - a low groan and a lazy lift of the paw as if to swat at him. Her paw brushed his hoof but did not scratch it.

Dog retrieved his hoof and stood to look at the bear. He had no need to end her life when she was down, and she had no desire, nor the strength to leap for his throat.

She finally regarded him calmly, seeming to understand what he did: the fight was over.