From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
A fly landed on Kronk and he tried to ignore it. Then the bastard bit him and he tossed his head a little to dissuade it. From there the battle progressed, and by the time he heard the mare shout out to him Kronk was all but trashing, trying to get the beastie to leave him alone. At her words he stiffened and felt a hot blush rush to his face. This didn’t do much to help his situation.
Soldiers did not blush. But, apparently this one did, for his muzzle was turning a charming shade of pink.
Kronk stomped his feet in a flurry to face her and when they were eye to eye he straightened up again, as if she was the general he had been waiting to inspect him. Yet, she seemed friendly enough and Kronk watched her with polite interest. It was her children, however, that finally caused him to relax a little. They were precocious little scamps, a little matching set of stars. And they reminded him of his siblings.
“Hello ma’am.” He managed a smile that wasn’t too stiff.
“Twins, aren’t they? I’m one third of a triplet, myself.” He hadn’t seen his siblings recently, but he remembered their foal days with fondness, all eyes and legs and wiggly tails. He watched the babes for another moment, before an adult voice snapped him back to attention. A stallion this time, with a friendly booming voice. Kronk came to polite attention and bobbed his head in way of a greeting as the stranger approached. In response to his question Kronk spoke.
“I’m Kronk, sir.” He paused, and considered for a moment.
“Though I answer to ‘hey you’ just as well.” It was true. “Hey you,” was a lot better than some things. Although, he had always thought Kronk rolled off the tongue quite well, might as well stick with that. It sounded as good spoken as it did bellowed, the perfect name for a solider.
Kronk looked at both his visitors with interest. He longed to ask them where they were from and what they did. Both seemed very official, and Kronk burned with a desire to have such a purpose. But, he managed to hold his tongue. Instead, he appeased himself with a formal,
"What can I do for you both?"
Photograph by Vivacqua