On the horizon the sun was rising, a warm glow spreading from the bright ball of light. Pinks and purples highlighted the brilliantly blue sky, thin clouds streaked here and there. The first light of dawn fell upon the plains. In the distance, the mountains remained darkened, looming dangerously, casting a shadow across the ground. But on the plains, the chatter of birds in the trees could be heard and creatures were waking from their slumber. A gentle breeze caused the grasses to sway and the leaves to whisper to one another restlessly. It was peaceful. It was a beautiful scene.
Untilā¦
A steady drumbeat sound echoed across the plains. Louder and louder, like a storm rolling in from the distance. Small animals scattered in its wake, birds taking flight in fright from the trees. The rumbling sound of hooves on dried earth was an ominous noise to all those that heard. A streak of grey moved across the horizon with speed and grace. Its strong legs pushed forwards, muscles straining against the smooth coat, sleek dark mane and tail flowing behind. Upon its back, a slender woman bent forwards, body arched. The woman held on with pure strength from her legs, which were long and tanned, the muscles there tone and smooth. Her torso was slim, but curved gently in the right places, an exquisite hour-glass figure. Her long fingers curled around a thin strip of worn leather, the only man-made thing upon the horse. No saddle adorned its back, nor any stirrups. Behind her, black curly hair billowed effortlessly as horse and rider moved with elegance as one. In the sunlight of the morning, two emerald eyes sparkled slightly, flecks of gold shimmering in the irises. The woman was no older than twenty years and her youth showed in the delighted look she held upon her face. Out here, on the plains, she was free. As free as a bird in flight. But that didnāt mean she could remain out here. She must return to her people.
Deene applied pressure through her legs, bringing her grey stallion back to a gallop and finally a trot. Rubbing his neck, she could feel the sweat beneath her fingertips; the tangy scent filled her nostrils. Whispering soft words, she pressed her lips to his ear. He flicked them backwards in response, listening to her every mutter. As he trotted forwards, the woman upon his back kept a keen eye open for any sign of danger. Upon her belt was her dagger and thrown over her slim shoulder was a brilliantly carved bow with a quiver of eagle feather-tipped arrows. It never hurt to be prepared when venturing out alone. Deene did not like to think that she would be caught unawares, especially seeing as she had been scouting herself. As far as she could see, there was no apparent danger close to the village, but one could never be too sure. At least, she had seen no Men.
Men, the thought alone made Deene want to shiver with disgust. She had seen Men, from a distance, she had heard the tales and she didnāt like them one little bit. However, the young woman of only eighteen summers was yet to meet a man in person. But that didnāt stop her heightened disdain at their existence. When Deene had discovered her Healing ability, she had vowed to protect her village and the people within it. That meant protecting them from the threat of Men. And she would gladly do so. They were her family, her sisters. It was her duty to do all that she could for them, whether that was healing their wounds or fighting their battles. She would give up everything if she had to for them.
And now upon the horizon, her village and home loomed into sight. A smile flickered upon her pale lips as she straightened on her horseās back, impatiently brushing strands of dark brown hair from her beautiful eyes. Urging the creature onwards, already Deene could see the village beginning to wake from its slumber. Early risers were preparing for the day ahead, packing their goods to sell and trade. She too would be going with them, but not to trade. The young woman had nothing to trade, save the horses that she looked after and sheād grown too attached to the beasts to part with them. Occasionally she would trade a foal or two, but the villageās horses were growing vastly because of her. Eventually, she would need to get rid of some, but for now, she was content with their numbers.
Many turned to greet Deene as she reached the edge of the village. Stopping her horse, she slid effortlessly from his back, landing as light as cat on her feet and completely as graceful. Tugging the handmade rein over the horseās head, she began to lead him through the village, careful to avoid getting in anyoneās way as they prepared. Being a Healer Conduit meant that the women in the village knew her by name and face. It didnāt bother her, but sometimes she wanted to be left alone so that she could think or plan, or even just train. Now, they nodded or smiled at the young woman, but most were too busy to stop and chat with her. Deene preferred this. A peaceful silence that allowed her to be alone with her thoughts.