The fire blazes behind his square pupil. The fear stays hidden somewhere desecrete inside me. My heart quickens in my chest. Intense excitement flows through me in a vigourous manner. His wicked teeth are inches away from my face. I could be dead. It could kill me. But the creature doesn't. Curiosity forcing it not to. The gentle wind caresses my back. It throws sand onto the horses scarlet red pelt. My breath is slow and shallow. The beasts nostrils flaring. Like a blazing bonfire atop of the cliffs. It snorts and kicks its front hoof, now would be when they purely enjoy people running away in a petrified frenzy. I barely flinch. It raises up its head And brings it back down to my five year old height, intrigued. I remember the feeling of its burning hot fur when I placed my chubby hand on its muzzle. It made my skin itch from the heat. In a matter of glorious seconds it had drawn its head back. We locked gazes until he adverts his eyes back to the twisted scorched trees behind him. I watched his hooves elegantly carry his agile body the colour of flame through the forest.
That was the day I touched a Fire horse.
YOU ARE READING
The Fire Horse (On Hold)
Fantasy"Its okay to be scared. Being scared means your about to do something really, really brave" He cups his hands around my face. His palms warm and damp from the heat of the day. The recognized voice of his team echoes off the alley's brick sides, in a...