Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Seventeen - Village Life

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

VILLAGE LIFE

Dray stretched his back and yawned expansively. Autumn would be passing into winter soon, the days already noticeably growing shorter. He liked this time of year though, there was something fascinating about the way the land felt as if it were getting ready to go to sleep, to renew itself. Dray snorted out a laugh; how he wished he could do the same himself! But, ‘life goes on’, he thought to himself philosophically. He wiped the sweat from his face and unhitched the plough before putting it back in the barn. Had it always been this heavy? He couldn’t remember it being so, but then he was definitely out of practice. Soldiering was a very different way of life to farming and, he thought to himself as the dull pain in his back made him wince, apparently used very different muscles too.

“You coming in for some breakfast, love?”

Honeysuckle’s voice carried over to him from the rear garden of the farmhouse, her feminine tones framed by the morning songs of the garden birds. Dray nodded and waved a hoof,

“Aye, I’ll be in, in a minute.”

Stretching his back, the Colonel walked over to the barrel of well water. In such an idyllic setting as his family’s farm, in some ways it felt to him as if the war had never really happened at all, or rather, that it wasn’t ‘happening’. It was even more peculiar to imagine that he had actually participated in something so pivotal that it could affect the very fabric of life in Equestria as a whole, and yet out here, in the country, there was no sign of war, no sign of…anything. By comparison to life in the towns and cities, country living was so different that to anypony unused to it, everything must appear to be at dragging along at a snails pace. Still, here, your work, your world even, was dictated by the seasons and nature herself, not timetables and orders of the day. Here, you could be one with the land, as an earth pony should be. Dray picked up a bucket, scooping up water from the barrel and dumped it over himself. The shock of cold made him shiver and gasp, but the feeling was one he’d always enjoyed after physical exertion; he felt…alive.

Dray trotted into the kitchen, rubbing a towel over his mane,

“Are the pests up yet?”

Honeysuckle rolled her eyes at her husband as she ladled out a bowl of steaming hot porridge,

“Not yet, they’re still wrapped up in bed.” She returned to the stove and brought over the kettle, “Tea?”

“Mmmfff” Dray nodded past a mouthful of toast and honey, “Fanks…”

“And you tell them off about talking with their mouths full!” Honeysuckle laughed, bopping Dray on the nose, “Anyway, you were going to pop over to see Lieutenant Cove and old Breezy today, weren’t you?”

Swallowing, the Colonel washed the toast down with a sip of his tea,

“Huh! ‘Old’ is right, she’s old enough to be his grandmother.”

“I didn’t realise there was an age limit on love,” Honeysuckle replied raising an eyebrow questioningly, “I see to remember folk asking that of somepony sitting not a million miles from here?”

Dray sighed, “A few years is not the same as…” he waved his hooves for emphasis, “decades. It’s not right, Honey, honestly.” He paused. Honeysuckle’s gaze seemed to strip him bare, exposing the stallion deep inside. His memories of the comment passing and snide remarks they’d endured all those years ago…they still hurt, even now. She was right of course, Fair Breeze and Cove didn’t deserve to have their relationship criticised by others, and least of all him. He was the one who’d buggered off to fight a war, leaving his wife and foals behind, nearly getting himself killed in the process, and then swanned back in as if nothing had happened. Had she criticised him? No…no, she’d welcomed him home in a way he could and would, never forget. He look up at her…ashamed.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, “that was wrong of me. I don’t know, Honey, I think with everything that’s happened I’m just ‘doubtful’ of the intentions of others.”

“’Suspicious’, would be a better word,” Honeysuckle smiled, rubbing his forehead with her hoof, “I know what you mean though, love. Young Cove is vulnerable and Breezy’s lonely, so they sort of gravitated towards one another. If they hit it off, then great, and I wish them all the best fortune in the world. If not, well, they are adults after all.”

Dray nodded, “You’re right there, Cove’s an officer despite what that horse’s cock Ochre did.” He went to pick up his tea, “Ow! Bloody hell, Honey!”

“Will you stop that swearing!” She hissed, putting down the large ladle, “Ever since you came back, you’ve been swearing like a trooper. There’s foals here, you know and I don’t want them learning words like that!”

Dray chuckled, “I only said he was a horse’s cock, I don’t see what…” holding up his hooves to fend off another impending attack by kitchens implements, the grey stallion ducked, laughing “Sorry! Sorry!”

Honeysuckle pushed him round on his chair and brushed her mane out of her eyes. Shaking her head slightly, she gave him a knowing grin, “You know” she said, her eyes sparkling, “I don’t know why I put up with you…”

The honey coloured mare climbed up into his lap, her tail brushing against Dray’s hind legs.

“Because you love me?” The Colonel asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh…maybe…” Honeysuckle purred, wrapping her forelegs around his neck, “Maybe because I love a stallion covered in sweet honey and toast crumbs…” She quickly licked a few errant remnants of her husband’s breakfast from his muzzle. Smiling, she gazed into his eyes, her voice a soft purr, “Maybe It’s because…it’s magic…”

Dray’s world melted into a honey soaked blissful haze of…

“OOOH! You’re kissing!”

The excited voice of Dawn Dew made them both jump.

“Ew! How can you do that! That’s horrible!” Polo’s horrified announcement echoed around the kitchen, “You look like you were eating each other!”

“Ha Ha! Maybe daddies REALLY hungry!”

“Oh, bollocks! I’m going to barf!”

“Polo! Don’t you dare use language like that in this house!” Honeysuckle span round, waving her ladle menacingly, “He’s picked it from…”

“-Gotta go, love! I’ll bring something nice back from market…” Drays voice called back as he accelerated away out the front door, down the garden path and up towards Hockspeth village. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he ran, his voice ringing out in the morning air. That cheeky little beggar! He was a chip off the old Dray block alright. He took a deep breath and broke into a full gallop,

“OH BOLLOCKS!”

Whooping happily, he felt as happy as he ever had in his entire life. Sod the army and bollocks to the war! Let Nightmare Moon win, who the hell cared anyway? Better off giving the whole of the ‘nobility’ a stick each and let them batter one another to death. That would leave the rest of Equestria to get on with the really important things in life, like farming, and snuggling with delicious honey soaked mares…

The village soon hove into view, the quaint arrangement of thatched cottages dominated by the one tavern in town, the Brewers Apron. He’d spent many a night in there when he was younger, in fact it was where he’d first seen Honeysuckle when she’d been working there part time to earn a few bits. He remembered the frilly looking outfit she’d worn then, the way her hair was tied back in plaits too. Dray grinned; exile wasn’t so bad, besides, if Nightmare Moon took charge, Ochre would probably be for the chop anyway. He smirked self indulgently, “And good riddance too” he muttered to himself out loud.

Fair Breeze’s home was a turn off just before you got into town if he remembered correctly. And, sure enough, there were the old tree’s just the same as they’d ever been and the neatly maintained lane that lead up to her open front door. Dray cautiously approached. Trusting ponies was one thing, but leaving your door wide open?

“Hello…?” Dray knocked on the door tentatively, “Anypony home?”

A slightly muffled thumping noise was coming from the back room. Straining his hearing he could hear stifled groaning too, like somepony was in pain…oh goddesses, this wasn’t happening, not here! Instinctively, Dray reached for his sword, but…

“Damn it…” he hissed, and looked about quickly for something, anything he could use. A stout staff leaning against the wall by the rain coats would do. Snatching it up, he moved forward keeping as quiet as possible. The groaning and banging sound was getting louder as he approached the back room. Whoever it was, it sounded like they were killing each other in there…he’d have to move quickly. Hefting the stick, Dray readied himself, calming his heart. If he startled them, he’d have a chance. Taking a deep breath, he bucked open the door and charged in…

The staff clattered to the floor.

“Wh…What? Oh my…oh my goddesses!” Dray took a step back at the two pairs of eyes staring back at him, “At this time of the morning too! Oh…I…”

Cove stepped back, looking away in embarrassment as Fair Breeze climbed down from the table,

“Oh, grow up, you big foal” she admonished, adjusting he pinny, “It’s my house and I can do what I like. I suppose you forgot how to knock, did you?”

“I did, for your information” Dray snapped back, “Apparently you didn’t hear me.”

“Hmph” She snorted, “’Apparently’ not.”

“Celestia’s arse, Fair,” Dray said defensively, “I thought you were being murdered!”

“Did it look like I was being murdered?” She snapped back angrily.

“Well, he had his hooves…I mean…that is…”

Fair Breeze rolled her eyes, “Oh, shut up! For the goddesses sake…” she stomped out of the room, “STALLIONS!”

Cove, his face bright red, cleared his throat,

“Er…Good morning Colonel Dray.”

“Yes, um…Good morning, Lieutenant Cove.” Dray scratched him mane, “You seem to be fitting in…’well’.”

“And he would have been a lot more so if you hadn’t barged in!” A voice called from the kitchen, “Why don’t you two bugger off into town and let me get some cleaning done?” The mare’s face reappeared in the doorway, “Covey…come here a minute…”

Obediently, the young Lieutenant half disappeared into the kitchen, only his hind quarters and furiously swishing tail remaining visible until he re-appeared a few seconds later, his cheeks even redder than before.

“There’s a pouch of bits in the drawer, love.” Fair Breeze said in a sultry voice, “Help yourself.”

Cove took a hoofful of the coins and popped them into his saddlepack before trotting to the door past his older friend. Dray bobbed his head to Fair Breeze who stuck her tongue out at him in response. Oooh! That mare! Shaking his mane irritably, Dray followed the young stallion out the door and closed it behind him with a sigh of relief. Goddesses, that image would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life! And…and those noises! Oh, Celestia! Maybe he’d ask Honey if she could perform some memory spell on him later…

Fortunately, the fresh morning outside and the prospect of meeting old friends quickly dispelled the more vivid imagery running wild through Dray’s mind, that, and the company of another stallion. He had to admit, that whatever spell Fair Breeze had cast upon him, metaphorically speaking of course, it had done its job well. The young fellow was positively glowing, although not necessarily for the right reasons. Cove, divested of his cloak, packs, weaponry and armour looked like just any pony you’d meet down the street. His cutie mark, sleek black mane, tail and blue eyes were quite striking features and no doubt, their impact hadn’t been lost on the frisky old mare.

They trotted along at a leisurely pace, the sun climbing into the sky promised a beautiful day ahead and Dray felt the leisurely calm of life in Hockspeth seeping through his bones. He smiled to himself happily. Perhaps Cove may be a little more conversational now than he had been? He decided to give it try.

“You seem to be settling in with Fair pretty well, Lieutenant.” Dray said pleasantly.

“Yes, Sir.” Cove replied quietly.

Well…it was a start…

“So”, Dray tried again, “Is she looking after you well?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Good goddess almighty! Was the rest of the day going to be like this?! He took a breath and forced a smile,

“Honeysuckle wants you and Fair Breeze to come over for tea.” He held up a hoof as Lieutenant Cove opened his mouth, “And you’d better say something other than what I think you’re going to say, or else I’ll tell Honeysuckle about what I saw today. Clear?”

Cove’s ears turned bright red, “Yes, Si…I mean,” he cleared his throat noisily, “I’d be delighted to accept Colonel. I’ll ask Fair when we get back if you like.”

“I do like” Dray said with a sigh of relief, “Anyway, as I said, you two seem to be hitting it off surprisingly well for a couple who’ve just met.”

The young stallion smiled, his eyes taking on a distant cast, “She’s wonderful” he murmured dreamily. Cove stared up into the sky with a wistful look upon his face, “She so beautiful…”

“Uh-huh…” Dray shook his head. There were many ways he’d describe Fair Breeze, but ‘beautiful’ was not one of them. Anyway, it was Cove’s concern, not his, and besides, at least the young fellow had a roof over his head and not crashing out in his barn. “Have you been into town yet?” he asked.

“Not yet, Fair say’s she wants some things from the market though.” Cove fished about in his pannier, “I have a list of groceries we need. She said to take them to your house.”

“Oh…good…” Dray tried to smile, but instead he just rolled his eyes. Domesticated already, the poor sod. Mind you, he had no room to talk. It appeared the two mares had already planned today well ahead time too, and his plans had been altered to include a fun filled shopping expedition. Where did they find the time to do that?! A thought suddenly came to him, “Did she say anything about all those ponies at the dock? I asked Honey, but she didn’t know anything about it.”

Cove nodded, “Most were refugees from the north apparently, fleeing from the Legion. Others were from Heifer’s Leap who’d been panicked by the stories they’d been hearing.”

“Stories?” Dray asked, intrigued, “Such as?”

Cove’s gaze hardened, “Ponies being killed for food. Thestrals are carnivores after all, and they employ dragons as well.” He closed his eyes a moment, “It doesn’t seem that far fetched when you think about it.”

“Really?” Dray shrugged, “I wouldn’t believe everything you hear. Griffins are carnivorous, and so are many creatures in Equestria. It doesn’t mean we’ve suddenly become a menu item. When was the last time you heard about a dragon eating a pony?”

“It does happen.”

“I know, but it’s rare” Dray reasoned, “And even then it’s nearly always a dragon who’s old, sickly or just plain mad. They usually end up being put down by the matriarch in the end.”

Cove raised an eyebrow, “I hope you’re right, Colonel, they could end up coming through here sooner or later.”

“Maybe” The Colonel said quietly, “But if they do, don’t show any aggression towards them and they’ll more than likely leave you alone.”

The Lieutenant stopped suddenly and faced him, “I never thought I’d hear you say that! Submission? To the Legion?”

Dray nodded, “Not submission, Cove, just common sense. I have a family here and I’m too bloody old for this sort of nonsense. Look where it got me: nearly killed and ultimately banished. If the Legion come through here, then what good do you think panicking and running away is going to do? And have you thought about what would happen if I attacked them? They’d kill me, and goddess knows what would happen to my family then.” He jabbed a hoof at the young stallion, “And you need to consider somepony else as well now, don’t you?”

Cove looked stricken, his ears flopping, “I…” he stammered, “yes…yes, I suppose I do.”

“Good!” Dray clopped his hooves together, “Now come on, let’s grab a pint down the Brewers Apron. They used to do a damned good wheat beer when I was there last. Maybe they still do.”

The Lieutenant smiled, “You’re on! Let’s see if you can out rank me in ale.”

“Oh, I think I’ll manage.” Dray laughed, “You may be younger, you may be faster, but there’s one thing I am that you’re not.”

Cove wrinkled his brow, “What? Experienced?”

“Nope…” Dray chuckled, tapping him with a hoof, “I’m sneaky.”

Laughing, the two trotted into the village and towards the green. Nothing had changed; not the trees, the houses, nor even the ponies. Dray shook his head in amazement at the scene around him. It was as if he’d travelled back in time to those days before the war broke out, back when he was a new father and had the sort of idyllic lifestyle that at the time, he hadn’t truly appreciated. He grinned; he did now.

Ponies walking past the two friends, or sat chatting on the grass, paid them little heed. The odd one who looked up would screw their face up as if trying to place them, but then Hockspeth had always had that sort of ‘not my problem’ attitude which may have appeared at odds to what ponies normally expected of village life. Still, it had served them fairly well over the years. That wasn’t to say the inhabitants wouldn’t rally round each other if somepony needed help; the fire at Brindle’s farm some years ago had shown that, and it certainly didn’t stop the incessant gossip either. It was more a case of leaving ponies their personal space, and leaving others in peace. Whether Fair Breeze fell into that category was a different matter. The more Dray thought about it, the more nuanced and complex the undercurrents of village life appeared.

The village tavern itself was a quaint affair. Its white washed walls, thick dark oak framework and dense thatch made it look like a winter festival cake decoration. Compared to some of the places the Colonel had been into, the Brewers Apron looked ridiculously small and more akin to somepony’s home than an actual ale house. The inside however, did give the impression of being slightly larger than outside, but only marginally. There were two open log fires, one at each end of the long open room. The bar sat fairly central, allowing staff to serve a goodly number of patrons at once, and it certainly did too. Dray remembered many a time, especially after harvest, when the landlord had employed anypony he could get his hooves on to help out with serving due to the flood of thirsty farm workers. Many, like himself, had simply ended up sitting outside on the green enjoying the wonderfully earthy beers they sold here. Today however, the bar was quiet. Mostly the customers were older ponies, taking advantage of the warmth from the fireplaces and passing the time of day with a pint or two. The landlord was busily engaged wiping out a beer mug when he spotted Dray and Cove,

“Good morning, gentlecolts. What can I get you?”

Dray smiled, “What’s on?”

The landlord waved a hoof towards the barrels behind him, “Well, we’ve got ‘Millers Old Fart’, always a popular one that, ‘Knackers Cart’, a nice peaty ale, ‘Trout Handlers Fancy’, which is quite a dark ale.” He peered at the last barrel, “and ‘Velvet Cream’. Hmm, not sure about that one, I haven’t tried it yet.”

An old brown stallion sat further along the bar called over, “I’d try the Trout Handlers, it’s good.”

Nodding his thanks, Dray turned to Cove, “That alright with you?”

The Lieutenant nodded, “Sound good”

Dray fished out some bits from his money pouch, “I’ll have two the Trout Handler’s then please, Landlord.”

Wiping his hooves on his apron, the big biscuit coloured Landlord leaned under the counter and produced a couple of beer mugs which he began to fill with the frothy brew. Dray squeezed his eyes shut against the horrendous temptation to ask Cove if he would have liked ‘something else’ instead, like a pint of ‘Old Fart’, for example…Oh goddesses! He probably would have bucked into next week, but…damn it, it would have been so worth it!

“That’ll be four bits, please”

Dray went to pay, but Cove beat him to it, “I’ll get these, Colonel.”

The Landlord stopped in his tracks and looked up, “Colonel…?” He peered into Dray’s eyes, the light of recognition dawning, “As I live and breath! It is you! I can’t believe you’re back!”

“Who’s back?” The old stallion sat on the bar stool shouted along the bar, looking at the two stallions with an intensity born of poor eyesight.

“I said its Herald’s boy,” The Landlord shouted in a deafening voice, “young Dray from the farm over the bridge. You remember?”

The old stallion jumped down from his stool and hobbled over. His faded blue eyes stared up at the Colonel making him feel distinctly uncomfortable under their inquisitive gaze. The old fellow scratched his chin as he thought out loud,

“Hmm, could be. He’s a big one alright.” He gave a cackling laugh, “Wouldn’t want to bump into you on a dark night!”

Dray laughed nervously.

The Landlord leaned on the bar addressing him, “What’s this about you being a Colonel? That’s a high rank, isn’t it? I’d have thought you’d be off with your family living in some big mansion somewhere.”

“No” Dray shook his head with a wry grin, “Not for me. I’m a country colt at heart and this is where I belong. Soldiering’s behind me now, I’m very pleased to say.”

The old brown stallion took a pull on his ale, giving his hind leg a scratch, “Soldiering’s not a profession for anypony, young ‘un.” He looked away sadly, a distant look in his eyes, “My boy went off to the borderlands many years ago, when he was just…” he trailed off then slammed his mug down on the bar noisily, “Same again, Landlord!”

Dray’s ear twitched, his interest piqued, “Sir, my apologies, but…I was stationed on the border for a time. What was your son’s name?”

The old fellow took a deep breath and looked away, “His name? It was so long ago now…” He chuckled, “How could I forget the name of my own son?” The Landlord passed him his beer and he took a mouthful, “His name was Creel, a short blue stallion with a cream mane and tail.” He smiled, “He had the most wonderful eyes too, like melted chocolate, the same as his mothers.” The brown stallion let out a long sigh, “His cutie mark was like his name, a wicker creel.”

Dray felt a flood of guilt run through him at making the old timer recall such memories. He tried to picture his son; a blue stallion, short with…oh…oh, goddesses…

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t remember him.” Dray said shaking his head, “He may have been before my time.”

“Well, I’m not surprised!” The old stallion snorted, “Even I was young then!”

“Well, I for one am glad to see you home, Master Dray.” The Landlord smiled, “Please, have one on the house, and your friend too. Master…?”

“Oh, er, the names Palm Cove, but Cove will do.”

“Cove…” the brown stallion muttered, “I’ve heard somepony mention that name recently…”

Oh, hell! The last thing he needed now was a discussion about a certain local widow and a young white stallion. Dray finished his pint quickly and banged the empty back on the bar, “So!” he announced boldly, “What’s been happening in Hockspeth since I’ve been off battling the forces of darkness?”

The old fellow’s eyes glistened as he settled himself beside the fire, “Well now, how much time have you got to spend?”

“As long you like, sir” Dray smiled, climbing into one of the large chairs and placing down his ale, “As long as you like.”

Time wasn’t pressing today, most of the farm work was finished and what wasn’t could wait until tomorrow. Here, nopony was screaming at you to get things done by a certain time or hauling you up on charges for being late for a patrol because you’d been so exhausted from the last one you’d overslept. No, here in the country, life rumbled along with all the urgency of a waterwheel: steady, rhythmic, doing what it had to do in the fullness of time.

The Colonel, not normally a tremendously sociable pony, unexpectedly found himself enjoying chatting with the old timer. Mostly, he rambled on about himself, his late wife and son, along with the ‘mess the world was in’. Dray smiled to himself. His father used to constantly complain about how Equestria had ‘gone to hell in a hoofbasket’, and how it had become completely unrecognisable from when he was a foal. To Dray, it all looked the same as it ever had. It seemed to him that the older one became, the more you found yourself yearning for what you perceived as ‘better days’. Whether they actually had been better was a topic for further debate; nopony liked too much change. Listening to the elderly stallion talking about how life had been in Equestria before Nightmare Moon had appeared though, for once, he found he couldn’t disagree. Equestria really had been better.

“…of course it was all about food back then. Many of our old songs were about simple necessities, like good hay, clean water and being able to sleep soundly at night without some blasted brigand slitting your throat.”

Dray listened intently. Ramble he may do at times, but sometimes, hidden within the mass of memory this pony held, little grains of wisdom would fall like grain from a griddle. He mentally noted all the pieces, gradually formulating plans, tactics…yes…yes! That could work! It would take a lot of planning and co-ordination, but…

“Colonel?”

Dray looked up into the blue eyes of the Lieutenant, “Hmm?”

“Sir, pardon me, but I believe we had arrangements to attend your home for tea?”

“We did?” Dray mentally brought himself back from his calculations. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t an officer anymore, he wasn’t even in the bloody army or allowed to step hoof out of Hockspeth. He gave himself a strong shake and looked up at the clock over the mantelpiece, “Damn it…”, he muttered.

Dray shook hooves with the Landlord and the old stallion before gulping down the last of his beer,

“Come on Lieutenant, we’d better get a move on.”

“Bloody hell, the shopping!” Cove pulled out the list from his pouch, his tone of voice rising, “Celestia’s buttocks we’re going to miss the damned shops!”

“Bugger it all! Right then…” Dray checked the list, inspecting each element, checking times and planning…always planning. “Listen in. Here’s what we’ll do…”

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon as the two soldiers hauled the cart along the road, Dray pulling and Cove pushing. They were making good progress too considering the sheer weight of the groceries they’d bought.

“Don’t you think they’ll notice their carts gone?” The young stallion shouted, “I think the baker had just left it there for a minute.”

“Don’t sweat the details, Lieutenant”, Dray called back, “I’ll take it back in the morning.”

“You don’t think he’ll need that bag of flour?”

“I’m sure he’s got plenty more!” The Colonel theorised, “Besides, if it’s a toss up between Honey skinning me alive and dealing with a pissed of baker, there’s not much contest!”

A few moments later, the cart came to a halt. Dray caught his breath, wiping the sweat away,

“Right then, you go and fetch Fare. I’ll head off now and for the goddesses sake, be quick!”

Cove saluted out of habit “Yes, sir.”

In a flurry of hooves and kicked up dust, Cove galloped for the front door leaving the Colonel to continue on to his home. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too long. Honey may be a country girl, but by the goddesses, when she had a plan in her head, you stuck to it if you knew what was good for you. He was already in trouble for being late for the groceries…but, if he brought reinforcements, in the form of Fare Breeze turning up earlier than expected to ‘help’ in the kitchen, then he’d probably avoid the worst of her wrath. Maybe a ladle or two across the old noggin, but he could live with that.

Dray’s heart was soon hammering in his chest, his breathing becoming laboured as he hauled the cart back to the farm. Bloody hell, how much had they bought again?! There were only, what…three adults and two foals? There was enough here to feel an entire battalion! Mercifully, the small bridge over the stream soon came into view and for a tense moment, Dray wondered whether the old structure would take the weight of the cart. The bloody things axles were already groaning under the weight of the food in the back, but it should be fine if he took it easy. It was. Despite a few groans and creaks, the bridge survived and more importantly, the shopping. Dray pressed on. His nose twitched as he caught a whiff of wood smoke and finally, like a gift from the goddesses, the farmhouse with the gate hanging open…again! He paused and frowned guiltily…aye, it was probably him from when he took off earlier. Shrugging it off, he dropped down the slight slope and round to the workshed.

“Only a few things…” he muttered, giving himself a quick wipe off with the cool water in the barrel. The worst part of all though was that the journey back was only half the job, the best part was shifting it all into the pantry and that was going to need more than one set of hooves. Little Miss Magical in there could bloody well shift her arse out here and help too!

Dray shook himself off and trotted to the back door. That was wide open too! Good grief, no wonder the place felt like an ice box sometimes,

“Honey? Come and give me a hoof with this lot will you? It weighs a tonne.”

Silence.

“Bloody typical!” he groused.

Well, it looked she’d gone out after all and taken the foals for a walk; either that or to one of the neighbouring farms for a chat. He sighed, shaking his head in submission. Fine! He’d shift the whole bloody lot himself then! Walking sullenly through the back of the house, something dripped on his face. It was cold. Dray lifted his hoof to his muzzle and wiped it off, was there a leak? He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth; it was just one more job for him to do later…but…wasn’t the upstairs bedroom above this part of the house? He’d finished the extension to the property just before Polo was…

Dray looked down at his hoof, the wet patch he wiped off was stuck to his fur now and in the dim light of the kitchen, it was hard to see it properly.

There was sudden loud bang from upstairs, a gust of cold wind blasting through the house, the open doors creating a wind tunnel effect and throwing loose papers and Honeysuckle’s potpourri across the floor. Dray stopped dead in his tracks, listening, straining to hear something…anything. The only thing he could hear though was the ticking of the old clock, the back door creaking in the wind and the soft pat…pat…pat of the liquid dripping through the ceiling onto the tiled floor.

Clearing his mind, Dray took down his old sword from the wall and gripped the hilt in his mouth. He couldn’t over think this, he daren’t; it was probably nothing, just the wind blowing through the carelessly left open window and doors. Winter would be coming soon, and with it the first snows, he could feel it against his fur even now.

Slowly, he climbed the stairs one by one, trying to keep his senses as keen as possible and alert to any movement, any sound. The house creaked in the wind, the bedroom door ahead of him was closed, but the gusts through the doubtlessly open window were making it rattle alarmingly. Probably Polo again! He was always messing about. One day he’d even caught the little beggar trying to ‘fly’ off the roof! He’d soon put a stop to that nonsense. Dray reached out and gripped the door handle. With a brief push, it began to open.

Comments

[Truthseeker]

I hate to say, I fear I know what he's about to find.