The Demon I Cling To //-lavender

[Sauda .]

t s a u m - -

He stood quietly, silently. Lightly, his mane played with his throat. The long curve of his neck was extended forward, the bay-coloured ears straining towards the distance. His whole body was pushing forward, albeit with his hooves refusing to take part in any action. The liquid brown eyes were his only forced action, his gaze flowing seamlessly across the territory of Sagren. The land he had claimed. His warm breath escaped thin nostrils in a trail that flew back against his face. The light wind that toyed with his mane and tail was coming at him, face-on. With no evident prediction available, the spotted horse rumbled out a low call. The noise sounded out from his little terrace, falling into the dips and shallows. He called again, louder, his body straining harder now as his throat vibrated with the effort. Finally restless, the pale hooves shuffled under the males’ bulk. And started walking down, away from his viewpoint. Tsaum had had enough of standing still. It was time for some action.

His lean limbs stroked through the Plains land, constantly shifting gaze holding little but disdain for everything he saw. He was alone, metaphorically. There was no one to share the harsh beauty of this place with him; no one to indulge in daily runs with. Life was boring, and it was made even more so by the simple fact that he just couldn’t bring himself to believe that this was his home. Sagren was nothing like his real home. His hooves clicked loudly against a stray rock, and the momentary skip of his heartbeat sent his mind flying back to Covell. Oh, how he knew those caves, back to front, and upside down! He had never lost himself in those walls, his safety net. He knew where the dangers lurked most, and which side tunnel would become a dead end. He hadn’t been there for a year or more now, but he knew, still, that the day he returned would be the best day of his life. He shook his head roughly. This piss-hole was not Covell. But until he found a way to becoming King of those caves, he would bring mares here and make merry. Patience was key.

He came to rest at one of the main watering holes. He noted all the other animals that had also chosen the same time to come for a drink. In heartiness, he thanked his timing. There was not much company at this point, and he had always found himself embarrassed whenever he went near water. It was ridiculous, of course. He would be at the edge of the drinking well, wouldn’t even be going in ankle-deep. But he had struggled with swimming since birth, and though he hated to let others know of the fault, he straight-out refused to partake in any adventures involving water going anywhere but down his oesophagus. He kept his ears alert as his head lowered. Hell to the no would this King be caught unawares by any predator that stalked the lands he ruled over!