Dark and Stormy Night - Skydancer - libertylithium - anawaname - Sakubik - Moominbrooke

ROUND 1

Skydancer

It was a dark and stormy night – just the way Michael liked it. He smiled as he watched the storm from his library window. At times the wind was so wild it drove the rain horizontally across the plains. But what he liked the most was the lightening and thunder. The pure energy of it was amazing. It never failed to excite him! But then he was born during just such a storm.

His parents had told him that the storm had begun in the early evening. And while it was not yet time for him to be born (as if we alone determined the time!) his mother had gone into labor with him. With each lightening strike her labor quickened, and it was not long before he entered this life. He did not cry; rather it seemed to his parents that he was laughing. He smiled at the memory of his parents telling him of it. And telling him also of how he had found his way out of the house during another storm when he was 14 months old. They said they found him waddling quickly around the yard, sans clothing, joyfully laughing up a storm of his own. During his childhood he continued the practice of exiting the house during storms, much to his parents dismay. He used to call himself a storm-rider and credited the thunder to the galloping of horses chasing after the lightening. To this day he still enjoyed going out into the elements when storms raged across the plains. But now he had his own stallion to chase after the lightening with him.

Michael remembered that when he had turned 15 his father had said, “You are a man now, fully responsible for your own actions. Though you are welcome to stay here under our care for several or more years, it is your own choice what direction you take. As our gift to you, you may choose any of the horses on our estate, except of course for our top breeding mare, Dancer's Delight. Or you may choose from another family of horses in the community. What say you?”

He had responded, “Thank you for such a great gift. I will take the next foal that Dancer delivers to us.”

“But you will not know whether it is male or female, and it will not be ready for your immediate use.”

“That is of no consequence. This is the right decision for me.” And so it had been.

Michael thought back on the birth of the fine colt that would grow to become the stallion that was his alone. Like Michael, the colt was born during a raging storm, lightening illuminating the sky and the thunder of galloping horses following behind. The colt seemed to know that it was quite special from the moment it dropped from it's mother's womb. It gained its feet immediately and began to prance around the stable area, showing no fear whatsoever of the storm, or anything else for that matter. He was a shining black that was almost blue and would become a magnificent horse. He asked the colt what his name was. As answer, the wind blew by outside, heralding the arrival of the thundering sky horses, and whispered 'Dark Thunder'. And so it was that this amazing colt that grew to be his stallion, his companion, had come to be called Dark Thunder. And they often rode the plains together, sometimes chasing the lightening at the head of the other thundering sky horses.

Ah, but so much reminiscing was no substitute for joining the storm for a night of wild running. He would go and saddle up Dark Thunder now, and they would go where ever the moment took them, and find whatever was to be found this night.

ROUND 2

libertylithium

Michael climbed onto the back of his beautiful horse Dark Thunder. The feisty horse almost managed to knock him off but Michael managed to stay balanced. Dark Thunder pranced gracefully but fiercely through the stormy country side as Michael held on tight to the reigns. He sure was enjoying this adrenaline rush. It was almost as if the horse was testing him- proving Michael worthy to be his owner. On and on through the fields they pranced until finally they reached the woods on the other side. Michael pulled on the reigns and tried to stop Dark Thunder from continuing, but the horse had a mind of its own. It continued down the trail into the woods. A thick wave of fear came over Michael as he remembered the dangers of lightening near trees. If they continued into the forest, lightening could strike one of the trees and they would be as good as dead.

On and on through the vast forest they galloped. The smell of rain and evergreens filled the air as the thunder roared in the sky. Suddenly, Michael heard a loud snap in the woods. Dark Thunder shook in fear as Michael tried to steer him away from the woods. They needed to get out now and they were already pretty far into the woods. As they continued the path back in which they came, Michael paused in horror. A large tree had fallen in their path. They had no idea which way to go...

ROUND 3

anawaname

Michael scanned the surrounding forest searching for a marker to tell him where he was, or even just a way around the uprooted tree. The woods here were too thick and too dark with the storm to try and make that jump. Dark Thunder fidgeted under him, not enjoying the claustrophobia of the woods at all. Michael patted his flank and made soft, absentminded shushing noises.

He remembered the time he had gotten lost a child, out in the great plains. He had gone for an exploratory walk but had panicked when he realized he had lost sight of the house. He had wandered around for hours trying to find his way back to his home. His father, after crushing him in a relieved hug, had swatted him across the back of the head and told to him to start using it. That was the day he learned the value of stopping to think about what he was doing. His father had pointed out, none too gently, that he had been walking southward. If he hadn't gone wandering in looping circles like an idiot, he could have just turned around gone north and would have been in view of the house within a few minutes.

"Always know where you've been," he muttered aloud, echoing his father's advice.

But that was the problem. He didn't know where he had come from. He could barely make out the ground a few feet in front of him, much less trace the trail they had surely left through the underbrush in this weather. The thunder came again, followed by another loud crash further off in the forest. Under that, low enough that he had first mistaken it for the sound of the rain, he could hear water running nearby.

There off to the left. He dismounted and led Dark Thunder towards the stream he thought he could hear. A good drink of water and a clear path to follow would be nice. The stream turned out to be more of a river. It had swollen with the rain and crashed across the rocky bottom throwing up spray and foam. Michael knelt and drank great handfuls of the water. It was cold and crisp and made him shiver.

When he straighten, he noticed an odd depression off to the right in the soft mud of the bank. Leaving Dark Thunder to drink, he wandered over to investigate. What he found there puzzled him. At first it didn't seem to have any shape at all.

Then he realized the depression was much larger than he had originally thought and the shape of it became obvious.

There, in the mud was an enormous footprint. It looked like one of his own, except that he could lay down in it and still not touch the edges along the tallest part.

The storm rolled on above him and the thunder shook the ground. Michael was reminded of all the stories about the far woods that he had heard. Dark stories about men who went missing and creatures that lived there.

ROUND 4

Sakubik

He couldn't believe it at first, yet he saw it right there. Just what creature on earth could leave a trail like this? Maybe it was best not to think about it..

Michael hastily turned around. It was foggy. He called for Dark Thunder. His friend replied. He found him, led him on to turn around. But he Michael heard a noise. Was it the thunder? The storm? Please let it be the storm, he thought.

He heard it again, he could not make out what this noise is. Dark Thunder was anxiious. He wanted to run, but Michael held him. He turned around, slowly, scared. He could not see anything through the fog. Just the noise.

The noise came closer.

Dark Thunder struggled free. Michael shouted after him! Stop! Don't go! Michael was scared. He ran after Dark Thunder. He ran and ran, faster and faster, but his feet wouldn't run fast enough.

He could barely see. And he had no idea where he was. Know where you are.... he took a second, looked around. It was no time to be scared, fear will not help him. It was so dark. So foggy. Thunder rolled in. He looked at the ground. Tried to see a tree a stone formation he might recognize.  He wandered around. It was a while. Then, he heard Dark Thunder. He ran towards the sound. Dark Thunder was just standing there. Next to a stone ruin. It looked like an … entrance?

ROUND 5
Moominbrooke

The portal was colossal, and faced by immense flat stone posts carved with rustic reliefs of snakes wound around each other and biting their own tails. It was capped by a heavy lintel of dark granite that glittered with each flash of lightening. All around the entrance were growing the plants that Michael knew were the most tasty and succulent to horses. Even an apple tree stood but a few paces from the monumental threshold. Dark Thunder munched contentedly while Michael looked around. The doorway was large enough for the maker of those outsized footprints. He shivered at the thought. Another thunder crash rent the air, and Michael looked to see where the flash would be, but when he turned around – Where was Dark Thunder? He heard a faint click of hooves on stone and knew that his horse had gone into the hillside. Quickly, but as quietly as his soft boots could make him, he scampered into the cavern. 

After several twists and turns he saw a glow. Michael crept close to the wall, close to the floor and marveled at what he saw- a spacious chamber with nearly twenty horses in stalls, and two roasting on a spit. The room was furnished with gargantuan tables, chairs and shelves made from what Michael suspected were horse bones and leather, and the walls and floors were covered in black, chestnut, dun and skewbald hides. There, among them all, was the giant mountain troll. He hoisted Dark Thunder and placed him gently into an open stable, and returned to tend his spit. It took all of Michael’s strength not to make a sound or to rush at the giant troll. But what could he do? 

Suddenly he had a thought. While the giant was noisily sucking down the horseflesh and cracking the bones with his massive molars, Michael scurried up to the entrance of the cavern and gathered up an armful of wet branches. Carefully, he came back down to the giant chamber and waited in the shadows until he could hear the giant snoring. He threw the branches onto the flames and hid inside one of the empty stalls. When the smoke filled the cave to the point where the giant’s head was on his pillow (but far above Michael or the horses), he awoke with a snort and a cry of consternation. He ran up the passageway to head out to the river for some water to quench the fire and Michael leapt into action. He threw open the horses’ pens and leaped onto Dark Thunder’s back. Off they galloped up the passage. 

The giant troll was returning with his water when he saw a stream of horses, with Michael herding them, part at the cave entrance and flow past him in the stormlight. He was too burdened to chase after them, so he stood bellowing in the night, then returned to his cavern to quench the smoky fire.

 

Once turned towards home, Dark Thunder knew the path home. Michael returned home with Dark Thunder and 20 other horses besides.