Horses Around (May 3010) - [One-Shot]
May 4, 2018 8:10:20 GMT -5
Post by Buruu Zam Ükher on May 4, 2018 8:10:20 GMT -5
Ükher stood, still as he could make his muscles stay, deep brown eye wide as he looked upon the hooved creatures ahead. He had seen them before; they were glorious, with hair like the bipedals, and the honor of carrying them upon their back. They were faster than Ükher could boast, or any of the herd he had left back home. Strong, powerful muscles—it was no wonder these were the carriers of the bipedals, nor was it a wonder that they looked to him and his horns going the wrong way as somehow inferior.
Everything was inferior compared to them!
They made their noise ahead, and the bull stood stiller yet. “Moooo,” he tried. A plea of concern. He had not meant to disturb their herd; he was merely walking the direction he needed to. Their lands were green, and he had gotten hungry, but he had not realized those fast-hooves were there.
They were staring, and Ükher was nervous. His thin tail swished, and he looked about. Many eyes were ahead, more than Ükher had ever seen on their own without riding bipedals. Quickly, the bull sidestepped, offering another call. “Moooooo.”
It was lower than the sounds they made, longer in drawl. He hoped they understood. He was going to leave—they did not need to turn and get their bipedals, or their wooden, pointy air-birds that bit the skin, or their long pointy branches. The herd had called them hunters. Ükher had seen them come through only a handful of times, but someone always went to sleep and did not get up, and then the bipedals took them away.
He did not want to be taken away. He had to find his bipedal. The one that was kind, and had eyes with twinkles in them. “Moooooo,” he added for good measure, and as quickly as his legs could charge him, Ükher took a hard turn for the north.
It was only a little out of the way; he would be able to be back on track soon. And, it seemed the fast-hooves were not chasing, nor were they seeking their riders. A fine break, the bull knew. His heart lifted, as he made his way onward. Something told him he still had a ways to go yet.
Everything was inferior compared to them!
They made their noise ahead, and the bull stood stiller yet. “Moooo,” he tried. A plea of concern. He had not meant to disturb their herd; he was merely walking the direction he needed to. Their lands were green, and he had gotten hungry, but he had not realized those fast-hooves were there.
They were staring, and Ükher was nervous. His thin tail swished, and he looked about. Many eyes were ahead, more than Ükher had ever seen on their own without riding bipedals. Quickly, the bull sidestepped, offering another call. “Moooooo.”
It was lower than the sounds they made, longer in drawl. He hoped they understood. He was going to leave—they did not need to turn and get their bipedals, or their wooden, pointy air-birds that bit the skin, or their long pointy branches. The herd had called them hunters. Ükher had seen them come through only a handful of times, but someone always went to sleep and did not get up, and then the bipedals took them away.
He did not want to be taken away. He had to find his bipedal. The one that was kind, and had eyes with twinkles in them. “Moooooo,” he added for good measure, and as quickly as his legs could charge him, Ükher took a hard turn for the north.
It was only a little out of the way; he would be able to be back on track soon. And, it seemed the fast-hooves were not chasing, nor were they seeking their riders. A fine break, the bull knew. His heart lifted, as he made his way onward. Something told him he still had a ways to go yet.