Information

Horse has a minion!

Brook the Gilded Kelpie

Horse
Legacy Name: Horse

The

Hydrus Legeica
Owner:

Hound

Age: 15 years, 2 weeks, 3 days

Born: May 4th, 2009

Adopted: 3 years, 10 months, 1 day ago

Adopted: July 20th, 2020

Statistics

Level: 21
Strength: 20
Defense: 13
Speed: 13
Health: 20
HP: 20/20
Intelligence: 5
Books Read: 5
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Stock Worker

CREDITS

profile template (c)

helix (get it)
other credits go here

information

Come back later, I'm a work in progress.

It was a gloomy misty morning when the lords gathered in the courtyard. With their polished boots and guns, they were brought their horses, fully tacked and ready to run. When all the noble men were mounted and the hounds whining and howling with excitement, the host and lord of the castle sounded the horn. Hundred of hooves sounded against the cobbles. The walls amplifying the sound, making it sound like a whole army.

As the hunting party progressed and several animals been looted, Lord Wilkinson got seperated from the group. He figured it would be best to find a way out of the woods and find a trail or a road in the open. He'd never been to this part of Scotland before. But he and the host got quite acquainted during a ball several weeks ago. It was hard to know wetheer he was going in the right direction. The bit of sky that was visible through the leaves was as grey as the bank of mist. He felt in Limbo. A world between worlds. The man was never superstitious or gave much thought about the supernatural. But suddenly he was remembered about the ghost stories that were told yesterday night. The sound of his horse's hooves seemed louder as the rumour of the hunt seemed to be spread out more.

A sudden end of trees appeared to be ahead. He could count them now on one hand. His horse stopped for a moment. Lord Wilkinson could feel it breathing in deeply for a few times, as if it was taking in the scent of the misty moor. He laid a hand on it's neck and stroked the lean muscle with his cold leather glove. "Come on, girl. Let's head back home." He said and clicked his tongue. The mare doubted for a second before she was encouraged two heels in her ribs. A small distance further, the ground sounded moist and then wetter and then the horse was spooked by something. It reared and jumped aside. Dropping the lord on the wet ground as she galloped off in the distance. "Seems like we were heading the wrong way, huh?" Wilkinson mumbled through his teeth. He was completely sitting in a pool of mud. It luckily broke his fall. Yet, his costume was ruined and his shotgun useless since the gunpowder got wet too. It was harder to get up than he thought. He seemed to be sucked in deeper slowly as he was moving more. He grabbed a clump of grass and tried pulling himself out. The 34 year old man was completely out of breath eventhough he was a strappy athlethic man. He tried dusting of his coat. It was no use. With a sigh he set off in the same direction he saw the last of his horse, trying to avoid puddles and sinking in.

It must have been an hour since he last heard a sound of the hunt. It made his way back even harder. Was he even going the right way? A dark shadow formed ahead as the mist dissappeared slowly. It seemed to be a horse, grazing. The lord was hopeful it would be his but it wasn't wearing any tack. It looked wild from the looks of his mane and tail. It was a knotted uneven mess with foliage in it. If he'd let his imagination run wild, he would believe the horse was a very ancient creature. The horse looked up when they both could see each other clearly. There was a smell lingering around the animal. Almost like a rotting corpse in summer. But it had to do for now to get him back to the castle. The man offered his hand to the horse to smell it. He found it strange that the wild horse didn't spook for anything, yet didnt give it much though since he was just looking forward to a warm bath by the fire.

Wilkinson gently moved his hand to the horse's cheek, neck and shoulder. He grasped the dreaded mane and swung his leg agily over the horse back as it barely moved. The lord had horses who couldn't even stand still when mounting and he had one of the best trainers in whole England. He patted the horses should and sighed relieved as he straightened his jacket. "Carry on, chap. Spit spot". The horse gave him a look from it's right eye as if it could understand him and wasn't so pleased about it. The eye seemed to swirl completely white. Was it just the lingering mists reflection? Wilkinson tried to take a closer look but the horse took off suddenly in a gallop. Luckily he was going straight ahead and not sideways, Wilkinson thought and managed to find the rhythm soon. The horse had no trouble with the soggy grass underneath its hooves. It seemed it could walk on water. The pace fastened and in the distance a lake became visable. Yet the horse didn't slow down. "Are you mad!?" Wilkinson shouted. He tried to drop himself right before they hit the water but couldnt. It appeared as he was stuck on the horse's back as from between the hair a black tar like substance oozed over his hands and legs. And if that wasn't crazy enough, his suspitioin about it walking on water were confirmed. The creature was taking him over the lake.

The mythical horse suddenly jumped up and dove into the water. The man gasp for air was short lived. They sunk deeper and deeper into the dark lake as he was abruptly released from the horse's back. It swum a bit further before it made a U-turn and launched itself on the man like a predator. The green water coloured omniously darker than it had been before. Wilkinson made some last efforts to hit the horse on the nose but mere seconds later, his struggles came to an end. A last ray of sun penetrated the murky water before it was hindered by a dark flowing mane and lord Wilkinson's eyes closed.