earth seemed fresh and new, almost as if the devastating storm had not happened and thrust him into the horrible situation. Everything seemed godlike, in a way, as colors pulsated in ways never before and the light appeared more physical than it seemed entirely possible. Beauty couldn’t describe what Odin saw through his eyes at that particular moment, and it was for that reason that, while seeking out his horse in the darkness, her breaths deep and peaceful, he found himself able to straighten his posture and relinquish his horrible feelings to the Gods above.
“Come on,” he said, untying the horse’s rope to free her from her place on the ground. “Let’s get out of here.”
Leading the mare out into the cool morning air by her reins, he retrieved a blanket from a saddle bag, slid it about his slim shoulders, then mounted the giant beast with a simple jump and step before pushing her into a quick trot.
When the road came into view, Odin thought for but a single moment everything would be just fine.
Such a beautiful day, he thought.
That pleasantry quickly shifted as soon as something darted out in the road in front of him.
His sword came out in but an instant.
Gainea bucked and kicked the empty air in front of them.
What was that?
Each and every second that passed on the invisible hourglass floating in the air made him all the more nervous. With only his horse and his sword to protect himself, much less any form of magic that he could use to his advantage, most any sort of adversary, if they happened to be in a group, would be able to take them down. A pack of wolves could easily dismember both him and his horse before he even had the chance to defend the two of them, and a group of bandits, especially armed with bows, would surely shoot him dead and take what few belongings he had. Along with this, he feared for his horse’s sanity—for that fact that, ever so quickly, she could easily be spooked and leave him to the open world: alone, isolated, and with nothing but his wits and metal to guard him.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, tangling the hand that held her reins within her mane. “Everything’s going to be just fine, Gainea. Don’t you worry.”
It appeared from the woods in that very moment, stalking on all fours with its elongated snout extended and its amber eyes gleaming in the fresh morning light. Its elegance, though grounded to its animalistic nature, could not have been matched by any other animal that happened to be in the forest, save for a Marsh Walker deformed beautiful by the constructs of nature, and its limbs seemed to grow an ample sense of solitude as it pushed itself up on its back legs to reveal a full height of some six-feet. It stood nearly as tall as the horse—nearly as tall as Odin was atop Gainea herself—but it did not frighten him in the least, as in that moment it seemed all the less intimidating and all the more breathtaking, a creature of the forest that commanded respect by appearance alone and instilled wonder simply by existing.
It, Odin thought, then stopped before he could continue. The creature’s eyes dilated and focused directly on him, its unnervingly-wolfish features impressing upon him a sense of fear that he could not dissuade.
Could it really be what he thought it to be—a creature of the forest who walked upon its back legs and in legend tore men to pieces?
Hello child, it said, tearing Odin from his thoughts much like it would were it to sink its teeth in his throat. I hope you’re aware you slept in my den.
The words, soft and like whispers fluttering amongst the breeze, floated over his head and slid across the mind. A dizzy sense of glee that brought him back to a time when he first learned he could talk to animals overwhelmed him instantly, not only startling him to alert consciousness, but to thoughts of the past—when, while walking along a road, a horse he’d encountered had warned him to tell his neighbor that something bad
“Come on,” he said, untying the horse’s rope to free her from her place on the ground. “Let’s get out of here.”
Leading the mare out into the cool morning air by her reins, he retrieved a blanket from a saddle bag, slid it about his slim shoulders, then mounted the giant beast with a simple jump and step before pushing her into a quick trot.
When the road came into view, Odin thought for but a single moment everything would be just fine.
Such a beautiful day, he thought.
That pleasantry quickly shifted as soon as something darted out in the road in front of him.
His sword came out in but an instant.
Gainea bucked and kicked the empty air in front of them.
What was that?
Each and every second that passed on the invisible hourglass floating in the air made him all the more nervous. With only his horse and his sword to protect himself, much less any form of magic that he could use to his advantage, most any sort of adversary, if they happened to be in a group, would be able to take them down. A pack of wolves could easily dismember both him and his horse before he even had the chance to defend the two of them, and a group of bandits, especially armed with bows, would surely shoot him dead and take what few belongings he had. Along with this, he feared for his horse’s sanity—for that fact that, ever so quickly, she could easily be spooked and leave him to the open world: alone, isolated, and with nothing but his wits and metal to guard him.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, tangling the hand that held her reins within her mane. “Everything’s going to be just fine, Gainea. Don’t you worry.”
It appeared from the woods in that very moment, stalking on all fours with its elongated snout extended and its amber eyes gleaming in the fresh morning light. Its elegance, though grounded to its animalistic nature, could not have been matched by any other animal that happened to be in the forest, save for a Marsh Walker deformed beautiful by the constructs of nature, and its limbs seemed to grow an ample sense of solitude as it pushed itself up on its back legs to reveal a full height of some six-feet. It stood nearly as tall as the horse—nearly as tall as Odin was atop Gainea herself—but it did not frighten him in the least, as in that moment it seemed all the less intimidating and all the more breathtaking, a creature of the forest that commanded respect by appearance alone and instilled wonder simply by existing.
It, Odin thought, then stopped before he could continue. The creature’s eyes dilated and focused directly on him, its unnervingly-wolfish features impressing upon him a sense of fear that he could not dissuade.
Could it really be what he thought it to be—a creature of the forest who walked upon its back legs and in legend tore men to pieces?
Hello child, it said, tearing Odin from his thoughts much like it would were it to sink its teeth in his throat. I hope you’re aware you slept in my den.
The words, soft and like whispers fluttering amongst the breeze, floated over his head and slid across the mind. A dizzy sense of glee that brought him back to a time when he first learned he could talk to animals overwhelmed him instantly, not only startling him to alert consciousness, but to thoughts of the past—when, while walking along a road, a horse he’d encountered had warned him to tell his neighbor that something bad
Similar Books
