05-08-2016, 12:43 PM
The thought has been niggling in the back of Szeth’s mind for some time now … why doesn’t he create his own herd?
This world that they live in is so full of the traited, so full of those wishing to be, or bowing to the wishes of the traited. Why can't he make a haven for the untraited, for those not wishing to live under the hoof of those corrupted by their own powers?
The more he thinks about the idea, the more he likes it. He will create a safe space for those wanting to avoid the traited of Beqanna. The only problem is, he needs mares. Untraited mares at that.
That's part of the reason he's come to the meadow today.
His brown eyes scan the grassy expanse, flicking over the gathered horses. He cringes when he sees a mare with a young foal - the child’s head is adorned with a small horn. A pity for the girl to be be born with such a thing, she doesn’t stand a chance.
Finally, his eyes alight upon a pair of mares - a small dunalino one with striking orange markings, and a taller black arabian. They seem ordinary to his eye, though of course one can never be sure these days. So many traits don’t manifest physically.
But he might as well give them a chance. He approaches at a walk, then stops what he believes is a respectful distance away. “Hello there, I’m Szeth! What brings you ladies to the meadow today?”
This world that they live in is so full of the traited, so full of those wishing to be, or bowing to the wishes of the traited. Why can't he make a haven for the untraited, for those not wishing to live under the hoof of those corrupted by their own powers?
The more he thinks about the idea, the more he likes it. He will create a safe space for those wanting to avoid the traited of Beqanna. The only problem is, he needs mares. Untraited mares at that.
That's part of the reason he's come to the meadow today.
His brown eyes scan the grassy expanse, flicking over the gathered horses. He cringes when he sees a mare with a young foal - the child’s head is adorned with a small horn. A pity for the girl to be be born with such a thing, she doesn’t stand a chance.
Finally, his eyes alight upon a pair of mares - a small dunalino one with striking orange markings, and a taller black arabian. They seem ordinary to his eye, though of course one can never be sure these days. So many traits don’t manifest physically.
But he might as well give them a chance. He approaches at a walk, then stops what he believes is a respectful distance away. “Hello there, I’m Szeth! What brings you ladies to the meadow today?”
szeth
absolute power corrupts absolutely