Wrong turn...

The first time I've even attempted trying to draw a horse with a skull or skeletal markings - they've always been intimidating. It could do with some improvement, but for a first time, I'd say it didn't turn out half bad

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At the Dark Lake Stable's White Swan's Feather race: water dripping from her hair into her eyes, Mae reached up to rubb it off with her sleave. The wet cloth just managed to make it worse. Holding the reins to her horse, she looked around among the milling people and horses, trying to at least find someone she recognized.
Reaching out, the soaked young woman pleaded. "Could you hold him...just for a moment. I really need to get changed, it'll be really quick. He's very friendly, don't worry."
Mae thrust the reins into the hands of the person next to her and ran for the buildings. They were still getting ready for the race, she should have enough time.

Angry noises drifted up from down the field. It looked like someone had brought a mare in heat to the race - and some of the stallions were acting up.
Holding on tighter to the reins of the stallion, the pressganged rein holder was expecting trouble any moment. But the horse in front of her just stood there - not even flicking an ear in the direction of the commotion.
He sniffed the person's jacket. Mixed in among all the familiar smells of oils and hey and unknown horses was a familiar scent. One that he'd been missing.
Hollow sighed and yawned - displaying an impressive amount of sharp fangs.
"Nightmare!" They whispered under their breath. "I should have recognized any get from Depression when I saw them."
Not duley concerned, Hollow looked about for a moment, then settled down and seemed to drift off to sleep.

* * *

The stallion jerked in his sleep, dreaming.

He'd found one of the Gates out of the Valley, more by accident than anything - he'd just been wandering about, feeling lonely. He hadn't known it was a Gate - it was just another bit of put together rocks to him. He'd gone through it because it was easier than climbing the areas surrounding it.

To one moment step from a familiar environment - full of sounds and scents and places you knew - to the next be somewhere else entierly was not an experience that should be thrust upon the unwary. That was one of the reasons why the owner of the stable always made sure to blindfold the horses before going through. So far, they'd always come out in locations that were fairly similar to where they'd left - but that wasn't a guarantee.

Suddenly he was surrounded by mist. Cold and tangy it clung to his body, almost caressing him - whispering. Day turned to night. The full moon staring down at the world beneath with it's allseeing eye - motionless in it's journey, penetrated the swirling layers of condensed air only enough to set them alight with an almost ethereal glow.
Hollow spooked.

There were noises out there. She flicked an ear in the direction they were coming from. The scent, horseish and warm filled her nostrils. The mare tasted the air with her tongue, it was so close she could almost feel it in her mouth.
Setting off at an easy pace, she didn't bother to mask her approach. There was nothing there that could frighten her - she was far from the edges of the Meadows, a boundry she was loath to cross, if only because of what it would mean.
It wasn't long before there was something visible, if at first only barely, in the mist. It grew more and more defined as she drew closer. The dark shape of a horse.

Moving in from behind, she danced around, intending to let her 'victim' catch only a glimpse of her before darting off. A game like that could go on for hours, driving the animal, eventually, mad with fear - until their hearts, the blood pumping so fast, could no longer take it.

Quoth half reared, parting her boney jaws, her pale eyes almost aglow in the dark - a sight that would send even the most foolish of normal stallions running.
The move hadn't caught the stallion unaware. His ears already pinned to his head - ill at ease with the place and the approaching scent, he swirled around as if stung. A head snaked out.

Suddenly, instead of having the stallion running for his life as she'd intended, the mare found herself trying to stop, while still moving - almost ending up on her haunches for a moment.
The dark shape in the mist, the scent of the stallion, they'd all screamed 'horse' at her. But the creature before her was no horse.
Ears still pinned to his head, eyes glowing with a pale blue icy light, from between fangs that would have made a pride of lions fall over in jealousy, the nightmare tossed his horned head in her direction - snarling his defiance.

Quoth blinked.



Foal will be:
(sire)(S) Hollow's Fall x (dam)(S) Ethereal Meadows's; Quoth's Raven

Darklight Stables: [link]

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Reference:

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Challenge: 57 Sacrifice