02-20-2018, 11:30 AM
He was a heavy beast with layers of power-driven muscle lying in stillness beneath his sunrise gold skin. White tipped radars tilted forward in quiet contemplation of the surrounding woods. One large foot tipped forward to etch in the dirt, the only sign of agitation in the otherwise calm outer appearance. The stallion liked the lay of this land. Had enjoyed the company he had found. The only thing that gave him pause was the wolves. Nasty creatures, dangerous alone but deadly in force. Coral lined nostrils flared as his instincts begin to sing. Something was close.
It was the slight sound of claws digging into the dirt to thrust the flesh-hungry wolf at his back that gave her away. He spun, but not fast enough to avoid the iron nails of the she-wolf as they cut through his skin. The palomino stallion avoided a direct hit to his back but she still managed to land partially across his hip. His own daggers dig into the earth propelling him forward just enough to give him space to whirl on the scraggily creature.
At this point his ears are tight against his skull, his lips curled back in a snarl. His own child might not recognize the ferocity that shines brightly in the golden man’s eyes. It has always lurked, just below the pretty words and kind tone, the beast more inclined to fight than flight. His eyes and movement track the beast before he lunges out with forelegs flying. He aims for center mass but any direct blow could grievously injure the much small predator.
It was the slight sound of claws digging into the dirt to thrust the flesh-hungry wolf at his back that gave her away. He spun, but not fast enough to avoid the iron nails of the she-wolf as they cut through his skin. The palomino stallion avoided a direct hit to his back but she still managed to land partially across his hip. His own daggers dig into the earth propelling him forward just enough to give him space to whirl on the scraggily creature.
At this point his ears are tight against his skull, his lips curled back in a snarl. His own child might not recognize the ferocity that shines brightly in the golden man’s eyes. It has always lurked, just below the pretty words and kind tone, the beast more inclined to fight than flight. His eyes and movement track the beast before he lunges out with forelegs flying. He aims for center mass but any direct blow could grievously injure the much small predator.