by Inupait » Mon Dec 15, 2014 9:24 am
Username: Inupait
Name: Bryn
Type: Marcher
Height: 1,26 m
Gender: Doe
Story:
The cobblestones under hoof were wet and slippery from the mushy fallen snow. The snow made the sky and town seem heavy with gloom and guilt with the grey clouds choking out the weak winter sun. The snow was the first of the season and made the streets slick and treacherous. But life had to go one, people had to go places and produce needed to be sold. The streets were bustling in a quite dreary sort of way. Men in black cloaks sheltered their felt hats with the daily news and shop keepers hunched their shoulders against the wind.
Bryn’s hoof falls were one of the only sounds that echoed through the snow padded streets. Her old weather wary harness wore against her shoulders and back as the cart she pulled bounced and jarred over the uneven ground. A small gasp from one of her passengers suggested that they too did not like how the cart rocked. But she knew the cart was stable, she had pulled it from the day she was broke and knew every creak and groan that escaped its well-made frame. But she had never pulled it through snow before.
The clopping of other hooves was the only sense that warned Bryn of other carrier ponies around her since her blinders blocked out all but the street directly in front of her. It was these exact objects that were made to defend her against spooks that would prove dangerous in this moment. Although all seemed quiet and calm around her, lulled into a sense of dormancy by the chill of the blizzard; two streets over a much larger team of carriage ponies were blindly running in terror with no driver to restrain them.
It was not uncommon for horses to spook, especially in such strange surroundings but the two frothing sweaty creatures were running scared and straight in the direction of the incoherent Bryn. How could she have known they were coming? Maybe she should have listened to the yelling and screams of shopkeepers as the two horse freight train bared down on her. Maybe the bellowing breath of the two frightened beast or the desperation in their hoof falls. But she didn’t.
Moment before the impact Bryn felt her drivers grip on the reins jerk her face away from the terrible sound, but when she planted her hooves to avoid them she slipped on the ice slick with soft powdered now. Bryn was defenceless, standing broad side to them, blind and ridged; she didn’t even have time to brace herself. The full force of the two horses connected with her side and harness. The wind was struck from her lungs and she was carried with them to the ground.
She remembered the splintering of wood and the snapping of leather. As she lay stunned on the cold wet cobblestones she could hear the shrieking screams of one of the runaways as it flailed desperately against the ensnarement of leads and ties. She was aware that the other runaway that had mainly connected with the cart she had been towing lay motionless next to the remains of the wooden cart. What she had yet to become aware of was the immense pain in her shoulder and back.
Voices echoed around her now, gasps and horrified cries of anguish made the sky seem to hang even more darkly above her. She tried to lift her head but the ache was to bad and she gasped daringly. She managed to lift her head high enough to see the crash beyond her blinders. One runaway was clearly dead or close to it. A pool of crimson blood encircled its limp form. Beyond that Bryn saw her carriage had been reduced to kindling and her driver lay face down on the cobblestones. Nurses and healers rushed from their hidden corners to aid those who had been her passengers. Another man began to cut away the harness the tangled her legs and body. But no one approached the still struggling runaway.
When Bryn was finally cur free she took a moment to stand. Her head was dizzy and uncertain of the world around her and she stumbled several times. When she did find her footing she stood in that same place and observed all that was around her. In her mind she saw the collision replay, but she saw it from the perspective of an onlooker. Nothing from anyone on the sidelines could have been done. She glanced at the now still gasping horse to see why no one had approached it. His front leg was twisted painfully and beyond repair, his partner was still motionless and he would soon join.
Bryn was lead away from the crash. Blood trickled down her front hoof from a gash on her knee, darkening the pale white snow and her body ached with immense pain. She knew in her heart that no one was to blame for the tragedy; fait had just left its mark on yet another life. She was tended to and fed in a warm dry stable. A young stable boy even fetched blankets and attempted to bad her dry. But her mind kept drifting back to the image of her driver face down on the cold stones. What a terrible thing snow was. she thought bitterly. It was cold and remorseless it probably already bathed the body of the fallen horse, greedily trying to cover the evidence. she hated snow. her cart was gone, her masters fait uncertain, but she did know that she was happy to be inside out of the blizzard.
