Two humans were walking down the trail.
Absynthe was hidden from the humans by dense foliage; the pair walked the trail unaware of the horse grazing by the river a few hundred feet ahead. They hadn’t seen him yet, so Absynthe wasn’t sure what to do. He bent his long neck down and drank slowly. If these humans had entered his territory he would’ve been alerted right away. His agents would follow the humans and if Absynthe wasn’t there himself, a runner would provide reports on their movement. But this wasn’t his territory.
Absynthe has lived in the Ebolian Wilderness for years. He made his home in a valley between two mountain peaks along a stream that flows down into a large lake. Absynthe typically ranges an area that encompasses the base of each mountain, and a few miles past the lake. At any given time, he knows roughly how many and which type of creatures are in the valley, or near. The forest here is old. There are sections of dense hardwoods: maples, birches, and beeches; there are acres of old-growth oak and hickories; Absynthe’s home is in a gorgeous hemlock and white pine portion of the valley.
Recently a number of refugees had come to the valley seeking safety. The rabbits and squirrels cried that food was getting more difficult to find. Rumor spread that beyond the lake, the forest grew emptier the further one travelled. The larger migratory birds reported a plague on the land that was spreading rapidly many leagues to the south; a blight where no plants grew. This all troubled Absynthe, but he knew he had to act after a conversation with two mountain lions two days ago. The mother daughter pairing told Absynthe of a lake in the Southern Mountain Chain that provided clean water to the Big River. When they had passed through this winter, they found that the lake was empty. More than that, it appeared as though it had been burned. The earth was scorched and blackened, and now dust clouds listed where once a river flowed.
Absynthe shook a cloud of flies away from his head.
The nearest village was many leagues away- if the humans had come all this way on foot, it must have taken days. While his ears flicked away flies, Absynthe focused on the sound of footsteps approaching. A larger figure marched in front of one lighter and more nimble. Absynthe chose to stand his ground and observe the humans to see how they might react to him.
The man rounded a bend in the trail and noticed the horse bent down drinking from the river. He stopped in his tracks. Instinctively, his hand shot out behind him to slow the girl that absentmindedly followed in his wake. Absynthe picked his head up and looked at the pair. The man was thick-armed and his face was weathered; he knew perhaps 50 winters. The girl that popped around the corner was caught and stopped. She was an adolescent; not yet a woman but far more than a child. Absynthe held the pair in his sight and turned proudly to face them.
Slowly the man removed a carrot from his pack, never taking his eyes off the horse. With the carrot outstretched as an offering of peace, he took a few steps forward. Absynthe sneered and whinnied, his head held tall and chest protruded so that the man stopped. They stood like that for a few long moments. The man made cooing, comforting sounds and tried to approach again, clearly unaware of how significant the horse was. Absynthe stomped his front hooves on the ground to convey his annoyance at the disrespect.
Absynthe’s focus then shifted to the girl, who was dirty and gave the impression of hardness. Her eyes drilled through the horse skeptically- she respected him and did not show at all if she were afraid. The was a bow on her back and the hand at her side looked ready to grab it.
The man tried again, clicking his tongue in his mouth. They had been on the road a long time, and a strong horse would give them much better odds of getting to, well, wherever it was they were going. Absynthe bared his teeth and growled at them, as much as a horse can. He was no pack mule. The man stopped and backtracked.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt you, and we mean you no harm,” the man said. Irritated, the young woman growled.
“Don’t talk to it, it can’t understand you!”
“Maybe not the words, Maya, but he may understand we don’t mean harm.” The man kept his eyes on the horse and laid the carrot on the ground. Then he began forward again, this time taking a wide birth around the horse on the very edge of the trail. Maya followed. Absynthe watched them closely. From the glare of her eyes and the way her hands stood ready, Absynthe bet Maya could have an arrow nocked in a heartbeat. Absynthe bent down and resumed drinking from the river. When they reached the trail on the other side they stopped to watch, disappointed that Absynthe never took an interest in the carrot.
“We could really use your help,” George said to Absynthe, who showed no signs that he had heard the man.
“Come on,” Maya grabbed his arm. “You can’t tame a horse with reason. We’ll only get hurt trying.”
George and Maya continued down the path in silence. After about forty minutes they stopped and drank water and spoke briefly. Neither could shake the strange confusion they felt after happening upon a war horse in the middle of the forest.
Once they were gone, Absynthe picked his head up and bent an ear toward them. Why were there two humans walking along this trail? He had a mission to find out what was threatening the wilderness, so how could he ignore these two? They were a strange omen. He knew to trust his instincts- he knew he had to follow the humans.
While many creatures could have been watching the horse, he managed to find a moment where only the presence of the trees and breeze were with him. And in that moment, had anyone been paying attention, they would have noticed the horse firstly shrink in size. Then, anyone watching would have seen the long horse neck start to retract. The entire creature became compact and distorted. And in the span of a few blinks, had anyone been watching, they would have seen a horse become a squirrel and dash up a nearby oak tree. The squirrel jumped to a nearby tree limb, then to another, and quickly became lost in a bouncing of branches that followed the trail that the man and girl had taken.