One of the hardest challenges to a relationship, and one that can tear them apart, is the loss of a loved one, especially if it involves one of the pair. In this case a tragic accident caused by a high school prank split apart two lovers when a loved one is the victim. Misinformation gets the blame laid on one of the pair, but years later, a stalker sends her back to her old (and always) love for help.
I had about 4 chapters of this written, but then I decided I hated the opening and I'm doing a rewrite now. After much debate, I decided to kill off the links to read the WIP online, since I really wasn't updating it very often because it's a work-in-progress and constantly being edited. When I finish it, though, I'll add the ability to read the first 2 chapters here and order info when it's published. ;-)
The stallion lifted his head from the patch of grass he was feeding on, ears perked as the wind rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees. He longed to chase the gust of wind, see if he could outrun it and where it would lead him on the chase. A quiver went through his body at the thought of the run, then he glanced in the opposite direction. Towards the world of man. Towards his goddess. He would never leave without her.
He turned back along the woodland path pausing for to drink from a nearby stream that separated the woods from a clearing. Following the path eastward, he came out of the woods on the other side of the dirt road which parted the woods from the man building.
School was what his mistress often called it, though he did not understand why they had to come it so often. When they went to the store, she always found sweet treats for their enjoyment, but she never seemed to find anything worth bring out of this place. Yet when they came to this dull area, she stayed for hours on end while he was left to explore the woods and wait.
The horse didn't care for most human buildings. At places like the school he was overcome by the pervasive odor of people that forever drenched their territories. Even the barns at home, held more smell of man than the horses stabled within. Were it not for his mistress, he would not go near to such places. He was not dependant on humans, unlike many of the mares in his herd. He was held not in servitude, but by the soul deep love that would keep him at the side of his goddess for all of their days.
A light breeze drifted over him, teasingly, beckoning him once more. It flirtatiously lifted strands of his black tail to lightly feather them against the brightness of his white coat. With a soft snort of regret at the chase lost, he trotted across the road to stand beside the wooden fence in front of the largest building. He pawed the ground in anticipation, knowing that the time was near.
Finally the shrill ringing of the school bell, and moments later dozens of humans burst through the opened double doors. Most were laughing and shouting at one another, but he barely gave them a moment’s thought other than moving away if any passed too closely. For a moment, as always, he feared she would not come. Somehow she might have left while he was walking in the woods. He always stayed downwind and within good scenting range, just in case she wanted to leave early. He would trot back several times a day, just to check. Still, she might have snuck past him.
At last she appeared in the doorway, her jet black hair flowing gently down her back as she hurried up the pavement towards him. Her face was lit with the special smile that she gave only him, his kind, and the dogs. She wrapped her arms around his muscular neck in greeting, then whispered his name as she gave his nose a soft stroke and a gentle kiss. With her bag hooked to the saddle, she gently mounted and they turned towards home.
With her he felt whole, as though they were one. One body, one mind, one life. Many times he knew what she desired before she gave any visible signal, for her body moved in perfect rhythm with his own. The stallion trotted gaily, hoping they would take the waterfall trail today. The mists that floated along it always cooled his skin and filled him with high spirits. Always after such a visit, as though she had felt the same, they would gallop full steam through the meadows leading to home.
They trotted along the first trail, circling through the woods he had stood in earlier and coming to the one place they had to walk along the man's road. The river, which the falls were a part of, divided the woods. During the heavy water flows of early Spring the only safe passage across it on their route home was the man-made bridge.
The stallion disliked walking man’s paths almost as much as he disliked being near their buildings, but more natural crossways were not close enough to allow for a detour. In the long time since he had started carrying his mistress to and from the school, he had grown accustomed to having to use the bridge in the Spring season; still he grew tense as they started crossing it.
Whenever they traveled on such hard surfaces, his mistress slowed his pace to an unhurried walk. He would have galloped without hesitation if she asked, but she never did. He was sure that she knew how much the impact on the surface pained his legs if he traveled on it too quickly.
They were halfway across when he scented three males at the other end who were about the same age as his mistress. Mixed with the boys scents were the sickening odors of oil, gas, and metal. Human machines.
He stopped and he felt his rider's increased tension when she noticed them. After a moment, she gave him the signal to go. One of the boys said something and the horse caught his mistress’s name in the words. No answer was returned. As they moved back onto grass, she gave a silent signal for him to move back into a trot. The boy called out again, his voice sounding harsh and angry to the stallion’s ears.
Suddenly the machines awoke with monstrous roars. In terror he reared, breaking into a headlong gallop as his hoofs touched the ground. He felt his mistress crouch low in the saddle like she did when they were on the track. He could feel her fear of those horrible noises. Mixed with his own deep-seated terror was a steely determination to keep her safe from that which she feared. Instinct guided him in the direction of home. The monsters continued their pursuit as he ran across grass fields and a field of young wheat, his sharp hooves ripping up the tender stalks.
The stallion jumped a fence at the end of the wheat field, continuing his gallop up a small crest in the gently rolling meadow. So fast was he going, and so blind was his terror that he did not see anything in the field until it was too late to turn aside. The thing he'd spotted was already under his hooves. A short scream rang through his sensitive ears. He slowed in response to the sharp tugs on the reins, calming in the sudden absence of the roaring.
He felt his mistress twist in the saddle to look behind them, and turned his head to see what seemed to be upsetting her so greatly. His eyes spotted a still object laying in the grass a good ways behind them. White cloth splattered with red, shaped like a human. The sour scent of blood and death reached him on the sharp wind whipping across the field.
His mistress moaned aloud, and he felt her starting to dismount when the roaring beasts returned. The stallion reared again, resuming his flight, despite his mistress's insistent pressure on the reins and calls to stop. Anger-filled yells sounded behind him, adding more fuel to his fear. He didn’t wait to see if the roaring horrors were behind those yells.
He reached the other end of the meadow where he jumped another fence, then a fallen tree three strides later. The monsters’ growls started to fade as he gathered himself to jump the last fence that would put them in their home range. Having jumped it more times than he could remember, he barely checked himself as he approached it, seeing only the safety that lay on the other side.
His front quarters cleared the jump with ease. The reins jerked tight in a strange motion. Something brushed his back as his hind legs cleared the fence. His rider's weight was gone and a soft thud sounded behind him. He stopped almost where he landed, turning to see his goddess lying motionless on her stomach beside the fence. She moaned and shifted slightly, then lay quiet and still.
He pushed at her side with his nose, but she did not stir again. The horse snorted from confusion, unsure as to what happened, but filled with unease. She had never fallen from him like this. Could the monsters have attacked her without him knowing it? Men had long reaching abilities, he knew that firsthand. Those things must have snuck behind them and hurt her before running away. He tossed his head and half reared in his rage. They dared to harm his love?
The sour odor of her blood mixed with that from the woman in the field which had splattered his forelegs, feeding his anger. He pushed at her with his nose, his touch gentle despite his growing fury. She must need the help of other humans.
The horse considered galloping home to retrieve the old man, but he didn't dare risk leaving her unguarded. If the monsters could strike so quietly, he would have to keep a constant eye on his mistress to keep them away. Lifting his head, he threw out heart chilling screams hoping the increasing wind would carry them to the dogs so that they could bring help his mistress needed.