Stone Mask (485 Words)
A bonus upload today, since I have a quick piece I wrote for class I wanted to upload. I'd hope to upload a few short-stories now and again, as well as The Llwycrau Company, but I can be a little erratic when it comes to them, so no promises, sadly.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this piece.
Stone Mask
By Brandon Armstrong
485 Words
One could feel the tension in the air. Upon the vast, rolling steppe, stood a sacred stone. It was painted vibrant blues, reds, greens, and yellows, marked with paw-prints and intricate symbols. Around this stone, this sacred place of worship, two figures sat upon horseback.
One was wrapped in light cloth, their face covered by a white stone mask. Over their shoulder was slung a long, curved falx sword. Their eyes burned amber-yellow with rage, and their tail boasted grey wolf-fur with a bluish tint. Their mount was a night-black colt, taller than the wolf and twice as strong.
The wolf's opponent was much less opulent. Her pale-yellow fur stood bare, barring a leather skirt and a necklace. On the necklace hung countless bird skulls and rotting fingers, cut from foes. There was an eerie rattle as the winds licked at it. Hanging by her side was a bulky-looking billhook. Her colt was a creamy white, adorned with jewelry just as gruesome as his masters. He was short, but boasted tough skin and strong muscles under his unassuming shell.
The wind continued to whistle by, while the two opponents stared each other down. On the wind was carried no smell, not even of wild game.
"Creature" She mumbled, the word was carried to the wolf by the wind. All too well, they knew what came next.
Narrowing her gaze, the wolf's opponent kicked her colt into action. She charged forth. The wolf did the same, kicking the colt onward. Now they both charged. The combined beating of the hooves was deafening, like a storm of apocalyptic proportions. The wolf watched as the distance closed, and in flash, it's seemingly over...
Blink, and you'd have missed it. In less than a second, both had made their move. The wolf had swung their falx, but it had been too low, striking their opponents colt, piercing his heart, killing him.
At the same time, the billhook had caught the wolf's mask with enough force to shatter it. In a daze, the wolf had slumped back, and fallen head-first to the cracked earth below.
Now they climb to their hind-paws. The wolf's opponent turning and staring, a crude laugh escaping her.
"Men should know their place, but a leper man, there is no place for that." She growled. Without the mask, the wolf's rotting face had been revealed. The fur had long-since sloughed off, leaving only exposed muscle and bone. He sighed, and without warning, charged forward.
His opponent had been caught off-guard. She tried to bring her billhook up to block him, but it was too late. The wolf skillfully ran his blade across her throat, slitting it open, letting the blood pour out. His opponent stared up at him, and her eyes went vacant. Finally, she collapsed.
The wolf spat, and whistled for his colt. He climbed atop him and dashed off across the steppe once again.