Post by Valatone on Apr 7, 2010 3:37:12 GMT
He could still feel the burn of harsh rope around his neck, the tangle of hobbles from one particular night when he'd lashed out at the man, running about the pen to cause chaos. He'd learnt that to escape, laying low was the best option. But that didn't matter now. It had been about a month since Cobalt had escaped the wrangler, but he still felt sore around the neck, where he had faint red marks.
The black stallion had fled the hut, almost taking the tame filly he'd been held with with him, but she'd kept to her master. He was so far from there now, so far from his usual haunts, not too far from Tingara's herd about Yarraman's Valley. He was now just around Quambat, heading to the hill that was owned by the dead Whiteface. But he'd taken his time....the journey had been slow, as the son of the King had loomed around herds, looking to spook fillies away from their stallions. He had had no such luck, but had escaped from a few raging brumbies who caught him.
But the one thing anyone nearby would notice about the ashy 3-year old was that he was covered in sweat and blood. Cobalt was not at his prime, not a complete fighter in the first place, but he hadn't learnt that yet. One stallion had caught him, beaten the lights out of him with blows to the head and chest, savage bites above the eyes. Just that one, who then had chased him for a day then left him where he was now, on the edge of collapsing.
It had been worth it, he thought, thinking back to the spectre of a filly he had chased before hand, who had lead him into the wild bay on purpose. She was impressively built, but that hadn't given him a hand at all. In fact, he could feel the tingle on his neck where she'd struck him. Cobalt smiled slightly as he stumbled into a small clearing, hidden away from the flat by a thick patch of trees surrounding it.
And there, he collapsed onto his knees, the white patch across his eye showing. He was awake, breathing clearly, but he closed his eyes slowly and rested. No one would find him....he hadn't left a clear trail...for once in his life he'd tried to stick to the grass, to avoid the bay again.
Well, he hadn't seen the specks of blood left behind him.
The black stallion had fled the hut, almost taking the tame filly he'd been held with with him, but she'd kept to her master. He was so far from there now, so far from his usual haunts, not too far from Tingara's herd about Yarraman's Valley. He was now just around Quambat, heading to the hill that was owned by the dead Whiteface. But he'd taken his time....the journey had been slow, as the son of the King had loomed around herds, looking to spook fillies away from their stallions. He had had no such luck, but had escaped from a few raging brumbies who caught him.
But the one thing anyone nearby would notice about the ashy 3-year old was that he was covered in sweat and blood. Cobalt was not at his prime, not a complete fighter in the first place, but he hadn't learnt that yet. One stallion had caught him, beaten the lights out of him with blows to the head and chest, savage bites above the eyes. Just that one, who then had chased him for a day then left him where he was now, on the edge of collapsing.
It had been worth it, he thought, thinking back to the spectre of a filly he had chased before hand, who had lead him into the wild bay on purpose. She was impressively built, but that hadn't given him a hand at all. In fact, he could feel the tingle on his neck where she'd struck him. Cobalt smiled slightly as he stumbled into a small clearing, hidden away from the flat by a thick patch of trees surrounding it.
And there, he collapsed onto his knees, the white patch across his eye showing. He was awake, breathing clearly, but he closed his eyes slowly and rested. No one would find him....he hadn't left a clear trail...for once in his life he'd tried to stick to the grass, to avoid the bay again.
Well, he hadn't seen the specks of blood left behind him.
