Something wet and warm splattered against his cheek, he winced at the feel of it but forced himself to remain still and forward facing even as the man that had been kneeling beside him gurgled and collapsed forward into the dirt and into Everett’s view. Blood pooled around the man’s twitching form. One golden hoof stepped back before the widening puddle could mar it’s perfect sheen then the unicorn was standing in front of Everett. He stilled, remembering Manannan’s words. Do not move. Do not speak. Do not look her in the eye. She lowered her head until her horn rest on top of his shoulder, her head blocking his view of the body beside him. A fine splattering of red dotted her white coat and he realized then why the stories of old had told not of a white unicorn but of a red horse. -- Jae Arden
Writers block has lifted. Writing has recommenced. Not the project I should be working on but words are flowing again so progress.
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