username: δρεπάνι
errp: Atticus
prompt: Atticus could tell that his rider, as well as a few other riders and horses, were nervous. He, however, felt calm. He had traveled through woods such as these a dozen times before. To him, the forest was his home and he knew them almost better than he knew his own stall. He supposed that was why he had been chosen to join the rescue in the first place. No good would come of the rescue mission if the rescuers themselves were getting spooked. He felt his rider place a hand on his neck and give it a gentle pat; a gesture that she probably thought was meant to comfort him, but served moreso as a comfort to herself. He appreciated it nevertheless.
There was one thing that worried him, and that was the blizzard that would be setting in before too long. He could feel it forming, slowly but steadily, in the air. The subtle frostiness that nipped at his coat like flies in summer told him that they had very little time to find all of the missing horses and bring them back before the blizzard would arrive. The heavy snowfall would certainly slow down search efforts and if they weren't careful, they could get lost themselves. On top of that, if the blizzard was heavy enough, it could easily erase any prints in the snow as soon as they were made, making tracking next to impossible while it was still snowing. And then there was the cold to worry about. Atticus hated to think of any horses, especially foals, that might be lost out in a blizzard with no shelter and in freezing cold.
All the more reason to find them as soon as possible, he thought resolutely. He pawed the ground and pulled at the bit a little before letting out a snort, hoping to convey to his rider his restlessness to get the search started as well as his determination to see it through to its end. In response, he was given another soft pat on his neck.