FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A Funeral For A Horse

By SakaraFox

The fire crackled gently at the heart of the Lavvu, sweet-smelling smoke rising into the night sky. A mournful sobbing could be heard from outside, muffled through the thick reindeer-hide skin of the shelter, against which the gentle firelight flickered. It illuminated the hand-painted scenes of horseback hunters and their prey, the mighty elk, with their beautiful, expansive antlers.

Sakara leaned towards the fire, a deep frown on his vulpine muzzle, his eyes baggy. He paid no mind to his three fireside companions as they all prepared for the burial.

Sakara dipped a horsehair brush into a small wooden bowl full of a sticky, black substance, then began to brush it over his eyes. The distinctive woad tattoo on his upper right arm was hidden under a long, brown hide cloak. Instead he bore that thick, black paint, the Lentavohi mourning marks; one stripe over his eyes and another extending from his chin and down to a special ritual loincloth he wore.

Upon the loincloth was embroidered the most beautiful and detailed image of a galloping white horse, the great Mother Horse. The Lentavohi afforded her unyielding respect and loyalty, for without her children they would not have survived.

It felt almost wrong to bear that most sacred spirit. It didn't matter if the Lentavohi had raised him since he was a boy, he was still adopted, still of other blood. The Lentavohi saw him as family nonetheless, but did Mother Horse? Did his own mount, Sisu, share his blood like a real Lentavohi?

"I still can't believe it." Said the vixen, Aalu, pulling Sakara from his thoughts. "Laara, of all people, losing her horse to a pack of hungry wolves. Poor lass." She grimaced, probably thinking of her own horse being lost to such a cruel and violent fate.

"Aye..." Nodded Sakara solemnly, sighing as he looked around at his fellow tribemates. "Uskolli was a good horse too. Rough around the edges, even knocked a few of Valkanta's teeth out." He added, a quiet chuckle being shared between the small group. Even the mute otter shaman, Sana, nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, but if a pack of Laakiset Warriors were chasing me down, I know who's back I'd like to die fighting on." Added Paavali, the wolf who sat opposite the fire from Sakara, with his normal bravado.

"Better leave some dried meat by the river tonight," Sakara commented, handing his horsehair brush to Sana. "Else Mother Horse might whisper into your Itsep's ear. And believe you me, I've seen Itsep when he's mad. That horse will break your ribs if he learns of your disloyalty." Sakara warned the wolf, letting Sana touch-up the mourning marks on his chest.

Paavali chuckled darkly, reaching-out to swipe the horsehide brush away from Sana. He missed, the otter much more perceptive than his lonesome nature betrayed, and he simply gave Paavali a dirty look.

"Alright, calm down you two. We have a duty to our friend and Mother Horse to make sure Uskolli passes into the next world safely." Aalu had stood, looking down upon each of them. She spoke firmly, but she was not angry, they were her own people and she wanted them to be happy, but this just wasn't the time.

"Of course, sorry." Sakara lowered his head, ears flat against his skull. Paavali emulated him, both of them apologetic. During their prolonged silence, Sana rose, putting the bowl and brush on the floor. He nodded at each of them, it was time.

"Okay, let's do what needs to be done." Aalu folded her arms and waited for the other two to rise. Then, each of them donned the mask sewn to their cloaks. They were carved from oak, resembling an abstract impression of a horse's face formed spirals and dots. Genuine horsehair manes descended down the back of the masks and the cloaks, and sewn to those cloaks were severed horse tails.

Sana's outfit was the only different one. He was the shaman after all, he held some power with the spirits, whereas the rest of them only had their favour. His mask was a horse's skull, painted black with a red and white stripe down the nose. The cloak he wore was an auroch's hide turned inside-out, covered in intricate images of galloping herds of horses.

Sakara sighed, a winter chill embracing him as the Lavvu's entrance was opened. Through the tiny eye slits he couldn't see much, but he could see the layer of moonlit white clearly outside. He pulled the cloak tight around himself. It was going to be an exhausting night.

They had left the shelter to be met by a small crowd in warm, reindeer-skin parkas and thick leggings, and lit by dozens of little stone lamps that burned tallow. Everyone bore the black eye paint, for losing a horse was as big to them as losing a person.

Poor Laara stood at the front alongside chieftain Tikeri. She stared at the four of them with great longing, she couldn't stand the thought of her dear horse's spirit lying in the dirt, clinging to its wordly body, lost and confused. She gulped and cleared her throat.

Sakara shivered, bare footpaws lashed by the bitter wind and snow. He looked around the crowd for Kuveli, his little brother, but could not find him. The young fox was probably obscured somewhere at the back. Just their luck.

"The burial mound is ready. We will follow you there." Tikeri tried to speak softly, but his voice was rough, worn-out despite being no older than Sakara.

Tikeri gestured to the man beside him, who in turn handed Laara a bone staff with another stone lamp fastened to the top. With it in her paw, she started towards the burial mound.

Sakara and the others began to surround her, himself and Aalu at her sides, wrapping their cloaked arms around her. To comfort her and keep her bleeding heart from breaking.

Paavali stood behind her, placing a paw on her back, less to comfort her, more so to act as the guiding paw of the spirits.

And behind Paavali walked Sana, thrusting the Lentavohi war totem into the air; a staff as tall as a man, a shining obsidian spearpoint on the bottom, and on the top were two skulls. A horse's skull bleached white, with a red and black stripe down the nose and under the empty eye sockets. Underneath was a yellowing deer skull with four black horse tails dangling from its antlers.

And so they slowly trudged through the snow. Out of the camp and across the frozen stream, then up a steep hill that stood above the surrounding snowy plains. The sacred hill where the Lentavohi were buried, found wherever the Lentavohi called home for more than a moon.

As they ascended the thoroughly trodden trail, Sakara couldn't help but think of the countless generations beneath his footpaws. His blood did not lie here, yet. His blood lay by the river beyond the northern mountains, guarded only by a pile of heavy riverstones and tireless watch of his parent's ancestors. Compared to the Lentavohi though, Sakara was ashamed. He wished he could have done more for them, but to move his parents would be to disturb their eternal rest.

Sakara was distracted from his thoughts once again as they reached a small group. They parted, revealing the half-frozen corpse of poor Uskolli, lying by a rocky, black hole that delved into the hill. The Lentavohi's burial burrow.

Apart from the mess of blood and sinew left by the tearing-off of the back leg, the old brown and white-speckled mare looked fresh as the day she died. They could thank this unusually cold winter for that. For all the hardships it brought, at least it kept the stench of rotting meat away.

Laara sniffled, and Sakara turned to check on her. He was in time to see a pair of crystal-like tears roll down her furred cheeks and fall to the snow. He wrapped his arm around her tighter, the thought of seeing his own horse, or worse his little brother, left like this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Sakara," Paavali's voice cut through the silence. "Would you do the honors?" Sakara turned to see the crowd surrounding them again, and Sana extended the totem towards him. The fox bowed deeply before his shaman's offer.

"If our shaman gives me his strength, I would be honoured." Sakara rose, taking the staff from Sana and holding it with both paws. He made sure not to let it drag across the ground as he approached the remains of Uskolli. He briefly turned and gestured gently for Laara to be by his side. She obliged, pressing against Sakara and clutching his arm tightly.

As awkward as her grasp made it, Sakara managed to gently lower the totem until the two skulls hovered inches above the horse's remains. Sakara bowed his head, closing his eyes.

"Uskolli, sister to us all, blood of the sacred Mother Horse who spirited the Lentavohi away from extinction, do not be scared of the darkness, you are free now. Gallop into the next world and greet the Mother Horse with the pride you boasted in life and suckle upon her honey-milk. In time we will follow you to paradise, just as your ancestors led us to safety."

Nobody made a sound following the speech. Sakara simply raised his head and lifted the totem, turning and handing it back to Sana. Then he released Laara and stepped towards the remains. Slowly he crouched-down and pressed his masked forehead firmly against the frozen flank of the horse.

"Be free now." Sakara said in a hushed tone, before rising once again. He gestured for Laara to step forward as he stepped out of the way. "Please, she should leave with your words in her ear."

Laara sniffled again, covering her mouth with the back of her paw. More tears rolled down her cheeks, but she fought through them and approached her dead mount. She too crouched in the snow, resting a paw against Uskolli's eerily still chest.

"Uskolli my mount, my trusted family, my own blood. They said you were mad when you were a foal, that you would not take to being my mount, that you would not hunt with me. But even as a girl of five summers I knew our spirits were bound. I knew you would never let me down. And you never did, not once. You did well, old girl, as wild and unpredictable as you could be. You ought to have been a warrior's horse, and I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed." Laara sobbed briefly, the paw she rested on her horse clenching into a fist. "Be safe reaching the next world, Uskolli, and run free with the great Mother Horse now. I will join you soon."

She rose as she finished her goodbye, and the four masked ones closed in around her. Sana and Paavali would take Uskolli into the barrow and bury her, while Sakara and Aalu stood by the entrance, playing music to ward-off spirits that wished to misguide the horse's wandering soul.

"It's time we take him inside." Paavali put a paw on Laara's shoulder. She nodded weakly, turning away from the unbearable site. Slowly, she began walking away, joined by Tikeri, and eventually the rest of the world.

All except the young Kuveli, who pushed through the crowd towards the front. He smiled weakly upon seeing his big brother, Sakara. The older fox knew it was wrong of him, but he smiled widely upon seeing the little lad. Nobody could see through the mask, it was fine.

"May I stay and wait for my brother?" The little fox asked, looking past Sakara and at the others, who were digging the dead horse out of the snow.

"No, you must go, only the spiritually strong may stay. Lest we want our sister's souls to be preyed upon by demons." Replied Aalu, rudely waving the fox away. But Sana grabbed her paw and shook his head. He made some vague gesture towards his heart before going back to his digging.

"The mute says your brother has a strong spirit, he can stay so long as he stays outside the barrow." Paavali relayed, nodding at the little fox.

"I know, Paavali, I can read what Sana says." Sakara said, lifting his mask off as he cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at the little fox.

"You heard them, behave yourself and I might warm-up some stew before bed." Sakara said, though he knew his little brother wouldn't be so stupid. He was very in-touch with spirits and magic for only being ten summers old.

Kuveli nodded at his little brother, then put his paws behind his back and waited. Sakara smiled, reaching out and ruffling his little brother's headfur, and put his mask back on.

"Alright, let's put her to rest." Sakara nodded to the others, and they each took a corner of the horse, Sakara taking the remaining back leg, and lifted. Slowly they shifted through the snow and into the barrow, where the stale, musty air took Sakara back for a moment. It wasn't foul, just unpleasant knowing what was in there.

"We'll be okay from here, you two go do your thing." Paavali said, coming back and taking Sakara's spot.

"We'll keep her soul safe until you are done." Aalu said determined, before quickly repeating Sakara's earlier gesture, and pressing her head against Uskolli and telling her to be free.

Then they both turned and exited the barrow, back out into the freezing cold. Aalu produced a wooden flute and a rattle made from a pair of horse hooves. Sakara took the rattle, those were simple and he knew how to play them. And so, they sat down either side of the barrow's entrance.

Seeing that they were outside, Kuveli came over and sat himself on his big brother's lap. Being deliberately awkward as he buried his face into his big brother's bare chest.

And like this they sat for well over an hour. Aalu playing a mournful tune on her flute, one that lingered in the air like one's breath on a cold morning. One that wrapped around you like a comforting friend. Sakara did his best just shaking the rattle, rising and falling with the flute. He heard Kuveli hum to the tune, at times reciting the words, "thunder-hoofed spirit, save our people."

Eventually the others emerged, wiping their brows with soil-covered paws. They all removed their masks and exchanged a quiet goodbye, for the moon was high above the clouds now. One-by-one they left, Paavali, then Aalu, then Sakara and Kuveli, leaving only Sana to cover the barrow before going back to his Lavvu.

As they walked, Kuveli produced a pair of spare rawhide boots. Sakara hugged him tight, and as he slipped them on, they spoke of their day. While Sakara had been preparing for the burial since midday, but Kuveli had just returned from a hunting trip with Conor, a foreign hyena and very close friend of theirs.

But as Kuveli described the last day of their trip, a certain look came to his eyes. Sakara knew the look, having raised the boy since birth almost alone, he could pick-up on all the little twitches and looks the little fox had.

"You have that look in your eye. Like you're not telling me something." Sakara folded his arms, staring down at the little fox with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Kuveli stopped in his tracks, "I'm not hiding anything." He placed a paw on his chest, supposedly offended by the notion that he'd lie.

"Something happened with the cultists again. That's why Conor didn't stay, isn't it?" Sakara asked, turning and crouching down to be on Kuveli's level. The little fox stepped back, biting his lip. His ears were flat on his head and his tail dragged through the snow.

"They knew mother." Kuveli sighed, avoiding his brother's gaze, as a child who knows he's done wrong. But Sakara was not angry, frightened yes, but this was not his fault. A boy and a hyena can't do much if cultists take a liking to them. Sakara felt his body tense and that horrible feeling rising in the back of his head. That feeling, it scared him.

"You mean the eye cultists, the Tarkkailija?" Sakara asked, panic in his voice. He reached out and gently grabbed Kuveli's shoulder. The fox's breath shuddered.

"No, no, other cultists. They worshipped the sun and..." Kuveli's muzzle wrinkled into a snarl, pulling out of his brother's grasp. "They almost burned me alive. Conor killed them all though, all except this one who had a horribly burned face called Hestr."

The name rang in Sakara's ears. Hestr, Hestr, that was a name he hadn't heard in over ten summers. He remembered the way his mother said it, Hestr, with that odd accent she had. The feeling in the back of his mind grew stronger, and it terrified him. He stumbled forward in the snow and wrapped his arms around Kuveli, embracing him in a tight hug. He brought his muzzle up to the little fox's ear and whispered;

"Never speak that name to anyone but me."