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Old 03-30-2006, 09:18 AM   #152
Firefoot
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Join Date: Dec 2003
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Firefoot has been trapped in the Barrow!
“We’ve had Æthel since she was old enough to be broken to the saddle, and that was when I was seven or eight – just old enough to be the one sitting in the saddle,” added Léof with a wince. He had certainly learned something about being dumped from this experience. Æthel had been about as young as a horse could get for riding, and his father had not wanted to put his own full weight on her back, while Léof’s scant frame had been ideal. “But she was the product of a local breeding, so if our horses were related, it would have to be further back than that. I know that Æthel’s sire came from somewhere close to Edoras; he was the foal of Therlaf and Merufel. But beyond that I can’t say that I know. It was hard for me to get information.

“As long as I’m moving Æthel around anyway, why don’t you bring Herefola out? I wouldn’t mind having a close look at the two of them side by side,” said Léof.

Gárwine agreed and led Herefola out of her stall. They lined the two of them up and Léof handed Æthel’s lead rope to Gárwine. Léof marveled now at how very close the two of them really were, not only in markings but also in stature and build. Æthel was perhaps half a hand shorter and somewhat slighter, but besides a few other subtle differences, it would be easy to believe he was looking at twins.

Suddenly there was a creaking, then a cracking, then a loud crash. Both horses snorted and tugged at their ropes; Léof could see the whites of Herefola’s eyes, and Æthel looked ready to rear. Many of the other horses in the stable had also become agitated, but Léof was much more concerned about these two. He was taking Æthel’s lead from Gárwine when he heard a shout, “Léofric! Gárwine!” Léof felt a brief flash of fear and anger, not at Thornden but because of the connotations his shouted full name carried, but he had no time to dwell on it in the ensuing chaos. Somewhere down the shed row he heard a bang, as if one of the horses had kicked the stall wall. “Léof! Gárwine! Come out here, and quick!” The shout and bang were the last straws for the panicked horses. Æthel reared, and Léof could feel the rope sliding through his hands, burning them. He had enough sense not to let go of the rope, but he also was not about to let himself get hauled from the ground. From the side of his vision, Léof had the impression of Herefola struggling; he could not tell what was happening to Gárwine. But he could do nothing until Æthel was under control. She had reared up again, and her flailing hooves were uncomfortably close to his head. He backed up, giving the lead a slight tug and talking to her in a soft voice. Inwardly, however, he was starting to panic, not for her but for Herefola. Gárwine seemed to be having a hard time with her, and she didn’t seem to be getting any calmer.

To make matters worse, Léof could hear more shouts coming from the courtyard. Æthel’s ears, which had been slowly flicking forward in attention to him, snapped back again and she lunged. Léof jumped back, but not quite quickly enough to avoid having his foot stepped on. He felt his throat contract and he gasped in pain. He clenched to the lead rope, trying to find words to speak to Æthel. But for her, at least, it seemed the crisis had passed. Her front feet lifted a few inches from the ground once more before her ears flicked forwards and she stood still, quivering slightly and snorting, but calmed. Now, he knew, Gárwine would need help…
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