Post by Gwala on Oct 19, 2006 0:28:22 GMT -5
NOTE: Technically two logs in one.
Characters:
Mwiba, a malevolent spirit
Gwala, a juvenile zebra
Theluthi, a wild dog of the Wahamishi
Thandiwe, a Pride Rock lioness
Setting: Pridelands - Grassy Plains
RP:
Something rustles the grasses on the plain. Were it not for the eerie chuckle that sounded, one would think it was only the wind. There's a chilling bite to the breeze. It becomes suddenly violent, then dies down again.
Gwala raises his head from where he is grazing, his eyes and ears flicking about nervously, scanning the area, almost synchronized with the rest of the grazers in the area. The rest of them lower their heads once more and go back to grazing, but Gwala doesn't. He takes a few steps forward, away from the herd. What /was/ that?
The chuckle sounds again as the "wind" rises once more, this time more violent than before. This time, it seems to concentrate on one area not far from the herd, swirling upward like a dust devil. Some of the debris kicked up seems to take on the form of a face, but it could just be the imagination.
By this time the herd is definitely spooked. Many of the grazers move away from the strange apparition, glancing about nervously. Foals run to their mothers. But not Gwala. He seems to be drawn to to the area in which the dusty wind kicked up. He shies, and he snorts occasionally as he nears it, as if he fears it but gravitates towards it nonetheless. His mother raises her head, whinnying anxiously, but making no move to stop him yet.
A hiss, and a voice begins to whisper on the breeze. It sounds like the mere howling of wind amongst the grasses, strangely forming words. Then, it suddenly falls silent. The wind parts a path in the grass, heading straight for Gwala.
Gwala trembles slightly. He's all but forgotten about the nervous herd. It is a separate entity, a bystander. What is this thing? This is no normal wind, surely. It's trying to say something to him. He starts as the breeze rushes towards him, his hind hooves skittering backwards slightly, his nostrils flaring. It's tempting to run but he forces himself to stand strong.
Soon, Gwala is engulfed in a flurry of activity. All around him, the wind rushes and the voice cackles loudly, triumphantly. "Youngling, youngling!" it hisses. "Why are you so curious? Does the world truly hold such wonders for you? Is that what keeps you to your spot? Such inquisitiveness is foolish, youngling." The voice is high-pitched, cold--the very epitome of terror.
Gwala is on the brink of panic, now. His narrow head swings from right to left, eyes rolling desparately to keep track of the wind and the voice. They seem to be one, but he can't be sure, in the midst of this maelstrom. He tries to move, away from the cruel voice and the wind, but he can't. "I - I - I don't - " It's difficult to speak, even bray.
"Pinned to one place. Attached to the earth." The voice continues to howl, twirling and twisting the grasses surrounding. A terrible rotten stench throttles the air, so full and overwhelming that one could find it difficult to breathe. "That is how you shall be! Oh yes, youngling, curious as you are, you will find yourself riveted thus. A test for your curiosity indeed." The maelstrom settles, and the faintest outline of a lion appears. He's thin and sinewy, narrow-eyed and narrow-bodied. His belly slings low to the ground, and he regards Gwala with the harshest of grins. "This curse undone in the Valley of the Kings at the next waxing half-moon, youngling. Heh heh."
Gwala's eyes roll upwards, back in his head, and he closes them, tossing his head and rearing, in some attempt to block out the evil stench, the noise. He opens them again in time to see the lion. His eyes widen, and his front-hooves come to earth, just in time for him to hear the final message. In the next instant he is mad with fear again, scrabbling backwards with his hooves so that he finally falls, landing firmly on his rump with his hind legs splayed out and his front hooves balancing him.
A soft chuckle, a whisper of wind, and the apparition is gone. All is still once more, as though nothing had happened.
It's not smoke, precisely, nor mist or fog or anything else pertaining to that nature, but the /something/ that surrounded Gwala and acted as a barrier between him and the rest of the immediate environement is gone. Vanished. And it has left the zebra foal panting, frightened and very disoriented. In what seems like an instant his mother is beside him, nuzzling him worriedly. Other grazers are there, too. They look afraid - of him? Of the lion? The wind? Did they even see the lion? It's gone, now...
Theluthi has arrived.
Thandiwe has arrived.
Gwala is still dazed from his whirlwind encounter with the supernatural. Most of the rest of the herd has lost interest. Must be the heat. Or the cold. Or something. They turn away and go back to the activity at hand - grazing, of course. Gwala's mother nudges him concernedly. He's not showing signs of life. Eventually he starts, looking up into her eyes, as if to reassure himself that it's really her. She nudges him again, and he gets up, wobbling a bit but holding steady for the most part. He looks kind of normal, if a bit shaken.
The wild dog here among the grasslands is not on a hunting expedition. He's here because his sharp ears caught the strange activity in the wind, but he heard not the voice. It was apparently just a strange windstorm. Theluthi tilts his head slightly as he observes the bewildered zebra, but he keeps his distance. A predator wouldn't be too welcome with a mother and her foal.
Thandiwe paces about just outside the zebra herd, occasionally glancing at their big stripy mass as if trying to pick out a mark. Of course, she's not really here to hunt, but she's...practicing, perhaps. She needs something to do to put her mind to work, anyway; there's a feeling in the air that she doesn't like, though she can't pin down why it disturbs her. She knows nothing yet of its cause. She doesn't seem to notice either the foal or the wild dog yet; at the moment, she's busy running a hypothetical hunt in her mind.
Gwala sniffs the air, scenting something - not quite as unsettling as the previous scent, still fresh in his mind, but still there. Predator - a dog and a lioness. His mother scents it too, and moves closer to him. He steps towards her, brushing his muzzle against her side gently. He's not too eager to leave her side after that experience, but he may not have a say in that matter - not that he knows it yet.
Theluthi takes note of the zebra mother's tense posturing and he freezes, not wanting to upset her further. He begins to back away slowly, lowering his head submissively. His stance clearly declares that he's not looking for trouble--or it would to any dog. To a zebra, who knows how his intentions look?
No...wrong...that's not it either. Thandiwe furrows her brow; all of her scenarios seem to be ending in death, no matter what she does to prevent it. Maybe she's just tired. Dropping her "exercises" for the day, Thandi returns her attention to the real world -- and spots the wild dog backing away from the herd. Immediately her suspicion goes up, and she stops her pacing to watch the dog with narrowed eyes. What's a single wild dog doing out here? Nevermind that you could ask the same about Thandi; this stranger is a dog, and therefore in Thandi's book he *must* be up to no good.
Gwala's mom does in fact take Theluthi's backing away as a sign of relative peacefulness. At any rate, she allows Gwala to move away from her and get a mouthful of grass to calm his nerves. Both she and her offspring keep a wary eye on the lioness, though.
Theluthi heaves a soft sigh of relief, only to tense up once again when he sees the lioness watching him. Uh-oh. And him without the protection of the pack. They're within howl-distance, but he'd be mauled to death before they arrived. He lowers himself even further, trying to be as placating as possible.
Seeing the dog's reaction, Thandi is fairly satisfied that he's not a threat to her. Still, she decides to keep a close eye on him; he's probably a sneaky little devil. Trying to appear more casual, she ambles closer to him -- but not -too- close. "Good evening," she says pleasantly enough. "Are you out to enjoy the night air?" Not that there's much to enjoy about it of late...unless you're the sort who enjoys long walks by the graveyard.
The herd starts to move off to a place with less predators. There's only two, true, but that matters little to them. Night is falling and they must find a safe place to rest. Gwala's mother begins to move off with them, and Gwala prepares to follow. Feeling in better spirits than he was a few minutes ago, he starts to trot after her. Then he stops. He trots again. Stops. Trots. He flicks his eyes down to his hooves, then back to his mother, who is moving steadily away, unaware that he isn't following. Can't follow.
Theluthi nods his head, remaining in a submissive posture. "I was just out for a walk away from my pack," he replies, very sure to emphasize the 'my pack' part. As in 'not alone'. He's about to say more, but the strange movements of the zebra foal catch his eye. He seems to be trotting in place? How curious.
Pack noted. Thandiwe has just about lost interest in the dog already, until she catches him looking at the zebras again. Following his gaze, Thandi sees that the herd is moving on -- save for one foal. The lioness blinks. Two predators are lurking about, and the little one chooses -now- to play hooky? That one's not long for this world. But Thandi's in a generous mood, and she's not at all hungry; so, with a shake of her head, she calls out, "Get a move on, kid. Your family's leaving."
Gwala IS trying to get a move on. Unfortunately, it's not working very well. He struggles against the invisible barrier, then turns back. But he can only take a couple of steps before he is stopped once more. He feels the beginnings of panic welling in his thin chest.
Theluthi cocks his head to one side curiously. "What're you doing?" he calls to the zebra, beginning to move forward. His stance his amiable; this isn't a dog on a hunt. "Exercising? Didn't you hear the lioness?" He's never really seen a zebra foal trotting in place like that. This is /really/ weird. Unconsciously, the hair along Theluthi's back raises. Something's wrong here.
Gwala glances frantically at Theluthi. He turns, kicks, but he cannot move outside of this invisible perimeter. "I can't /move/!" By now the herd and his mother are out of sight. She must have lost herself and him in the mass of stripes.
"Why not?" asks the lioness. "Are you stuck on something?" Thandi's curiosity leads her closer, now that the herd is out of the way and the risk of being kicked in the face is minimal. Aside from her curiosity she feels -- though she wouldn't like to admit it to the wild dog -- rather sorry for the little one.
The lioness' pity isn't the only emotion of its kind. Theluthi's got a soft spot for young things, not just pups, and he too feels sorry for the foal. He begins to examine the ground near Gwala's hooves, but there aren't any rocks holding him to his spot. The oddity of the situation grows by the second.
Gwala stops moving for a second, looking around. The only creatures around now are the lioness, the dog and him. And he can't move anywhere. He's dead meat if any predators take it upon themselves to take him down. Good thing none of those present are showing signs of agression. "I don't...I don't know." He slows down, suddenly thoughtful despite his predicament. Could this have anything to do with the strange wind and the apparition?
Thandiwe stares at the zebra's legs while the dog is studying the ground, but she can't see anything to hold him back either. Okay, rational explanations are running out; in fact, Thandi can't think of another one. If she had witnessed the apparition herself, she might have connected the dots by now, but currently she's stumped. "Can you...lift each hoof, one after the other?" It's not much of a suggestion, but Thandi wants desperately to be useful.
Gwala does so. Nothing happens. He tries to move forward again, but finds he can only go the same exact distance before he's simply not going forward. The foal sighs and hangs his head. "I might be stuck here forever." The brief connection to the apparition has fled temporarily from his head - he seems to have forgotten what the spirit told him.
"Oh, it can't be as bad as all that," Theluthi chuckles softly, though he doesn't sound sure of that sentiment. "Maybe you're just . . . uhm . . . on a really slippery spot." He pads forward to push against Gwala's hind legs helpfully--or likely not so, but he's trying to be. Maybe they can give the foal a jump-start.
Gwala slides forward as Theluthi pushes him, but it's as if he hits a brick wall. He just cannot go. Cannot move. He raises his head to the heavens. "I shouldn't have been so curious," he laments, unsure of what he means by this. It just seems stuck in his head - reminds him of something.
"Maybe the other way around?" Thandi offers uncertainly, hovering around them a few paces away. It occurs to her that, perhaps, this might work better if she was to help the wild dog push; maybe he's just not strong enough to move even a little zebra. She takes a few steps forward, looking the foal over to determine where best to grab him from.
Theluthi continues to shove up against Gwala's legs, bracing himself with his sturdy long legs. He's pushing as hard as he can now, but he doesn't seem to be gaining any leeway. When Gwala speaks, the dog arches a brow. What's he mean by that? "I don't think . . . *grunt* . . . curiosity . . . *huff* . . . has anything to . . . *pant* . . . do with it!"
Gwala does, but he's forced to forget once more as the dog puts all of his weight into him, smooshing him against the invisible wall. "Oof!" Suddenly Gwala tumbles forward, his two front hooves clattering to a stop past the boundary of the wall. Grinning brightly, Gwala smiles back at the dog, then at the lion. "It worked!" Unbeknownst to the colt, his troubles are nowhere near over.
Caught up in the moment, Thandiwe lets out a whoop and a cheer when the colt breaks through. "You did it! Good job!" She looks from wild dog to zebra, grinning ear to ear -- until she remembers herself. Um. Whoops. Her smile shrinks to a smaller, more sheepish model. She clears her throat. "Can you walk now?"
Theluthi stumbles forward as the zebra finally gives way. When he picks himself back up again, he laughs, relieved. "Ah, that's better!" he exclaims. "You should get back to your herd." He gives a wag of his stubby tail and begins to step backward, giving the foal space now that he's free. It can't be comfortable having a predator pushing on your legs, after all.
Gwala turns his head to smile gratefully at Theluthi. "Thanks so much!" He really means it, too. Now he just has to get back to his mother. He starts to gallop forward, but is dragged to a sudden stop, the force of it literally pulling him down, so that he skids and ends up on his side. Almost as if a chain was attached to his neck. Uh-oh.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Characters:
Mwiba, a malevolent spirit
Gwala, a juvenile zebra
Theluthi, a wild dog of the Wahamishi
Thandiwe, a Pride Rock lioness
Setting: Pridelands - Grassy Plains
RP:
Something rustles the grasses on the plain. Were it not for the eerie chuckle that sounded, one would think it was only the wind. There's a chilling bite to the breeze. It becomes suddenly violent, then dies down again.
Gwala raises his head from where he is grazing, his eyes and ears flicking about nervously, scanning the area, almost synchronized with the rest of the grazers in the area. The rest of them lower their heads once more and go back to grazing, but Gwala doesn't. He takes a few steps forward, away from the herd. What /was/ that?
The chuckle sounds again as the "wind" rises once more, this time more violent than before. This time, it seems to concentrate on one area not far from the herd, swirling upward like a dust devil. Some of the debris kicked up seems to take on the form of a face, but it could just be the imagination.
By this time the herd is definitely spooked. Many of the grazers move away from the strange apparition, glancing about nervously. Foals run to their mothers. But not Gwala. He seems to be drawn to to the area in which the dusty wind kicked up. He shies, and he snorts occasionally as he nears it, as if he fears it but gravitates towards it nonetheless. His mother raises her head, whinnying anxiously, but making no move to stop him yet.
A hiss, and a voice begins to whisper on the breeze. It sounds like the mere howling of wind amongst the grasses, strangely forming words. Then, it suddenly falls silent. The wind parts a path in the grass, heading straight for Gwala.
Gwala trembles slightly. He's all but forgotten about the nervous herd. It is a separate entity, a bystander. What is this thing? This is no normal wind, surely. It's trying to say something to him. He starts as the breeze rushes towards him, his hind hooves skittering backwards slightly, his nostrils flaring. It's tempting to run but he forces himself to stand strong.
Soon, Gwala is engulfed in a flurry of activity. All around him, the wind rushes and the voice cackles loudly, triumphantly. "Youngling, youngling!" it hisses. "Why are you so curious? Does the world truly hold such wonders for you? Is that what keeps you to your spot? Such inquisitiveness is foolish, youngling." The voice is high-pitched, cold--the very epitome of terror.
Gwala is on the brink of panic, now. His narrow head swings from right to left, eyes rolling desparately to keep track of the wind and the voice. They seem to be one, but he can't be sure, in the midst of this maelstrom. He tries to move, away from the cruel voice and the wind, but he can't. "I - I - I don't - " It's difficult to speak, even bray.
"Pinned to one place. Attached to the earth." The voice continues to howl, twirling and twisting the grasses surrounding. A terrible rotten stench throttles the air, so full and overwhelming that one could find it difficult to breathe. "That is how you shall be! Oh yes, youngling, curious as you are, you will find yourself riveted thus. A test for your curiosity indeed." The maelstrom settles, and the faintest outline of a lion appears. He's thin and sinewy, narrow-eyed and narrow-bodied. His belly slings low to the ground, and he regards Gwala with the harshest of grins. "This curse undone in the Valley of the Kings at the next waxing half-moon, youngling. Heh heh."
Gwala's eyes roll upwards, back in his head, and he closes them, tossing his head and rearing, in some attempt to block out the evil stench, the noise. He opens them again in time to see the lion. His eyes widen, and his front-hooves come to earth, just in time for him to hear the final message. In the next instant he is mad with fear again, scrabbling backwards with his hooves so that he finally falls, landing firmly on his rump with his hind legs splayed out and his front hooves balancing him.
A soft chuckle, a whisper of wind, and the apparition is gone. All is still once more, as though nothing had happened.
It's not smoke, precisely, nor mist or fog or anything else pertaining to that nature, but the /something/ that surrounded Gwala and acted as a barrier between him and the rest of the immediate environement is gone. Vanished. And it has left the zebra foal panting, frightened and very disoriented. In what seems like an instant his mother is beside him, nuzzling him worriedly. Other grazers are there, too. They look afraid - of him? Of the lion? The wind? Did they even see the lion? It's gone, now...
Theluthi has arrived.
Thandiwe has arrived.
Gwala is still dazed from his whirlwind encounter with the supernatural. Most of the rest of the herd has lost interest. Must be the heat. Or the cold. Or something. They turn away and go back to the activity at hand - grazing, of course. Gwala's mother nudges him concernedly. He's not showing signs of life. Eventually he starts, looking up into her eyes, as if to reassure himself that it's really her. She nudges him again, and he gets up, wobbling a bit but holding steady for the most part. He looks kind of normal, if a bit shaken.
The wild dog here among the grasslands is not on a hunting expedition. He's here because his sharp ears caught the strange activity in the wind, but he heard not the voice. It was apparently just a strange windstorm. Theluthi tilts his head slightly as he observes the bewildered zebra, but he keeps his distance. A predator wouldn't be too welcome with a mother and her foal.
Thandiwe paces about just outside the zebra herd, occasionally glancing at their big stripy mass as if trying to pick out a mark. Of course, she's not really here to hunt, but she's...practicing, perhaps. She needs something to do to put her mind to work, anyway; there's a feeling in the air that she doesn't like, though she can't pin down why it disturbs her. She knows nothing yet of its cause. She doesn't seem to notice either the foal or the wild dog yet; at the moment, she's busy running a hypothetical hunt in her mind.
Gwala sniffs the air, scenting something - not quite as unsettling as the previous scent, still fresh in his mind, but still there. Predator - a dog and a lioness. His mother scents it too, and moves closer to him. He steps towards her, brushing his muzzle against her side gently. He's not too eager to leave her side after that experience, but he may not have a say in that matter - not that he knows it yet.
Theluthi takes note of the zebra mother's tense posturing and he freezes, not wanting to upset her further. He begins to back away slowly, lowering his head submissively. His stance clearly declares that he's not looking for trouble--or it would to any dog. To a zebra, who knows how his intentions look?
No...wrong...that's not it either. Thandiwe furrows her brow; all of her scenarios seem to be ending in death, no matter what she does to prevent it. Maybe she's just tired. Dropping her "exercises" for the day, Thandi returns her attention to the real world -- and spots the wild dog backing away from the herd. Immediately her suspicion goes up, and she stops her pacing to watch the dog with narrowed eyes. What's a single wild dog doing out here? Nevermind that you could ask the same about Thandi; this stranger is a dog, and therefore in Thandi's book he *must* be up to no good.
Gwala's mom does in fact take Theluthi's backing away as a sign of relative peacefulness. At any rate, she allows Gwala to move away from her and get a mouthful of grass to calm his nerves. Both she and her offspring keep a wary eye on the lioness, though.
Theluthi heaves a soft sigh of relief, only to tense up once again when he sees the lioness watching him. Uh-oh. And him without the protection of the pack. They're within howl-distance, but he'd be mauled to death before they arrived. He lowers himself even further, trying to be as placating as possible.
Seeing the dog's reaction, Thandi is fairly satisfied that he's not a threat to her. Still, she decides to keep a close eye on him; he's probably a sneaky little devil. Trying to appear more casual, she ambles closer to him -- but not -too- close. "Good evening," she says pleasantly enough. "Are you out to enjoy the night air?" Not that there's much to enjoy about it of late...unless you're the sort who enjoys long walks by the graveyard.
The herd starts to move off to a place with less predators. There's only two, true, but that matters little to them. Night is falling and they must find a safe place to rest. Gwala's mother begins to move off with them, and Gwala prepares to follow. Feeling in better spirits than he was a few minutes ago, he starts to trot after her. Then he stops. He trots again. Stops. Trots. He flicks his eyes down to his hooves, then back to his mother, who is moving steadily away, unaware that he isn't following. Can't follow.
Theluthi nods his head, remaining in a submissive posture. "I was just out for a walk away from my pack," he replies, very sure to emphasize the 'my pack' part. As in 'not alone'. He's about to say more, but the strange movements of the zebra foal catch his eye. He seems to be trotting in place? How curious.
Pack noted. Thandiwe has just about lost interest in the dog already, until she catches him looking at the zebras again. Following his gaze, Thandi sees that the herd is moving on -- save for one foal. The lioness blinks. Two predators are lurking about, and the little one chooses -now- to play hooky? That one's not long for this world. But Thandi's in a generous mood, and she's not at all hungry; so, with a shake of her head, she calls out, "Get a move on, kid. Your family's leaving."
Gwala IS trying to get a move on. Unfortunately, it's not working very well. He struggles against the invisible barrier, then turns back. But he can only take a couple of steps before he is stopped once more. He feels the beginnings of panic welling in his thin chest.
Theluthi cocks his head to one side curiously. "What're you doing?" he calls to the zebra, beginning to move forward. His stance his amiable; this isn't a dog on a hunt. "Exercising? Didn't you hear the lioness?" He's never really seen a zebra foal trotting in place like that. This is /really/ weird. Unconsciously, the hair along Theluthi's back raises. Something's wrong here.
Gwala glances frantically at Theluthi. He turns, kicks, but he cannot move outside of this invisible perimeter. "I can't /move/!" By now the herd and his mother are out of sight. She must have lost herself and him in the mass of stripes.
"Why not?" asks the lioness. "Are you stuck on something?" Thandi's curiosity leads her closer, now that the herd is out of the way and the risk of being kicked in the face is minimal. Aside from her curiosity she feels -- though she wouldn't like to admit it to the wild dog -- rather sorry for the little one.
The lioness' pity isn't the only emotion of its kind. Theluthi's got a soft spot for young things, not just pups, and he too feels sorry for the foal. He begins to examine the ground near Gwala's hooves, but there aren't any rocks holding him to his spot. The oddity of the situation grows by the second.
Gwala stops moving for a second, looking around. The only creatures around now are the lioness, the dog and him. And he can't move anywhere. He's dead meat if any predators take it upon themselves to take him down. Good thing none of those present are showing signs of agression. "I don't...I don't know." He slows down, suddenly thoughtful despite his predicament. Could this have anything to do with the strange wind and the apparition?
Thandiwe stares at the zebra's legs while the dog is studying the ground, but she can't see anything to hold him back either. Okay, rational explanations are running out; in fact, Thandi can't think of another one. If she had witnessed the apparition herself, she might have connected the dots by now, but currently she's stumped. "Can you...lift each hoof, one after the other?" It's not much of a suggestion, but Thandi wants desperately to be useful.
Gwala does so. Nothing happens. He tries to move forward again, but finds he can only go the same exact distance before he's simply not going forward. The foal sighs and hangs his head. "I might be stuck here forever." The brief connection to the apparition has fled temporarily from his head - he seems to have forgotten what the spirit told him.
"Oh, it can't be as bad as all that," Theluthi chuckles softly, though he doesn't sound sure of that sentiment. "Maybe you're just . . . uhm . . . on a really slippery spot." He pads forward to push against Gwala's hind legs helpfully--or likely not so, but he's trying to be. Maybe they can give the foal a jump-start.
Gwala slides forward as Theluthi pushes him, but it's as if he hits a brick wall. He just cannot go. Cannot move. He raises his head to the heavens. "I shouldn't have been so curious," he laments, unsure of what he means by this. It just seems stuck in his head - reminds him of something.
"Maybe the other way around?" Thandi offers uncertainly, hovering around them a few paces away. It occurs to her that, perhaps, this might work better if she was to help the wild dog push; maybe he's just not strong enough to move even a little zebra. She takes a few steps forward, looking the foal over to determine where best to grab him from.
Theluthi continues to shove up against Gwala's legs, bracing himself with his sturdy long legs. He's pushing as hard as he can now, but he doesn't seem to be gaining any leeway. When Gwala speaks, the dog arches a brow. What's he mean by that? "I don't think . . . *grunt* . . . curiosity . . . *huff* . . . has anything to . . . *pant* . . . do with it!"
Gwala does, but he's forced to forget once more as the dog puts all of his weight into him, smooshing him against the invisible wall. "Oof!" Suddenly Gwala tumbles forward, his two front hooves clattering to a stop past the boundary of the wall. Grinning brightly, Gwala smiles back at the dog, then at the lion. "It worked!" Unbeknownst to the colt, his troubles are nowhere near over.
Caught up in the moment, Thandiwe lets out a whoop and a cheer when the colt breaks through. "You did it! Good job!" She looks from wild dog to zebra, grinning ear to ear -- until she remembers herself. Um. Whoops. Her smile shrinks to a smaller, more sheepish model. She clears her throat. "Can you walk now?"
Theluthi stumbles forward as the zebra finally gives way. When he picks himself back up again, he laughs, relieved. "Ah, that's better!" he exclaims. "You should get back to your herd." He gives a wag of his stubby tail and begins to step backward, giving the foal space now that he's free. It can't be comfortable having a predator pushing on your legs, after all.
Gwala turns his head to smile gratefully at Theluthi. "Thanks so much!" He really means it, too. Now he just has to get back to his mother. He starts to gallop forward, but is dragged to a sudden stop, the force of it literally pulling him down, so that he skids and ends up on his side. Almost as if a chain was attached to his neck. Uh-oh.
TO BE CONTINUED...
