| Subject: To battle and back |
Author:
Steel Dream
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Date Posted: 11:49:08 03/24/03 Mon
In silence, with no pretenses of self-importance or grandeur, the King of the Light Horses beats a steady canter up the slope to the great and infamous Cliff. Memories flicker through his mind as he takes in once again the bloodstained rocks. Here I fought Malussinn once or twice. Almost battled that stallion Jeopardy.... perhaps I fought Jurassic Park. His warm amber eyes gleam with a tint of wry amusement. I'm getting old- can't even remember who I've fought.
But my body does. The Welsh Cob draws to a perfect square halt, cream-colored mane tousled by the wind as his rich chestnut hide gleams with sweat, tainted only by the fading scars that are his body's memory. Suddenly a boulder triggers a painful memory. Not far from here... Myrakazan died. And I promised to raise Shazaam and Princess of Light as if they were my own... I pray to all the gods I have done anything like as good a job as Myr would have. In deep silence he looks to the sky, calling upon the spirit of a long lost friend. We miss you still, Myrakazan. Your children are grown now and have mates, and Shazaam had a beautiful daughter. They will always love you.
At last he returns his attention to the matter at hand, releasing a long bass whinny, rich and warm. "Demônio! I challenge you for the freedom of French Silk, which I will get if I win. No powerplaying, powers allowed, and the challenge will last until one of us surrenders or we decide to call in an arbitrator." His golden eyes scan the horizon for the stallion he has called to battle, beginning his own assessment before the fight can start.
Steel Dream is perhaps a few years past his prime, but his body is in excellent shape, hide gleaming with condition and muscles powerful and toned. The Welsh Cob was bred for battle, possessing unrivalled strength, stamina and sureness of foot. And his age merely has provided him with the wisdom and experience to fight with thought, not impulse. However, I have not yet my opponent; someone might best me yet.
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