wading through hell (dream)

[Conquistador]

Conquistador

Narrow shafts of sunlight pierced the soft darkness created by the cyprus canopy. The air was hot and thick, heavy with moisture. Flies swarmed in large black clouds. The soft buzzing of their wings was the only truly audible noise in the swamp. One could detect noises other than those of flies, but these other noises were like the remnants of a dream - any efforts to focus on them resulted in their immediate disappearance. An unpleasant odor of decay drifted up from the algae-blanketed water below. A little digging in the muck would reveal the sources: plant matter and corpses going through the lengthy and malodorous process of decomposition. Small islands of mud poked their heads out of the fetid water here and there. Their tops were covered with hardy vegetation, mostly that of an aquatic nature. Marks in the mud revealed that the plentiful inhabitants swamp took a rest on these islands whenever swimming or roosting became too much of a bore.

The cattails parted before the painted stallion like peasants before an approaching king. He gave a small sigh of relief when his hooves made contact with the moist soil of the island. There had been no patches of swampy land on the island, so he was unused to moving through such terrain. He had been making his way through the swamp in search of a large island which he had heard of from one of the few natives he had spoken to. The island was supposed to be a habitable place, unlike the murky, fly-infested hell around it. If he was able to find it, Conquistador wanted to claim it for himself. One needed lands of their own to establish a herd. While some would have gone for a forest or a meadow, he liked the idea of a swamp herd. The terrain and its fauna and bacteria offered excellent protection against those who would seek to harm his herd. The natural cattail fence was supposed to be one marker of the island. If there was colorful foliage and plentiful grass beyond the cattails, then he had indeed arrived at his destination.

A triumphant smile stretched his lips as he took in his new surroundings. The land beneath his hooves was carpeted with lush grasses, shielded from the summer drought by both the abundant shade of the cypruses and the swamp's damp nature. Flowers of red, yellow, pale pink, and white grew here and there in large patches. Either this was indeed the island of which the stranger spoke, or there were many islands like this one scattered throughout the swamp. Lowering his head, the blue-eyed colt began to graze.

[Conquistador]

The grass here was a little strange. Its blades had the same somewhat salty taste to them that the beach grass had, yet there was one little difference that he couldn't put his hoof on. Conquistador decided that it was a good thing; he would not be forced to adapt right away to a diet of freshwater-fed grasses. His tail swished back and forth constantly, a fan of fine, shimmering ink, chasing flies away from his tender flesh. Where his tail could not reach, the young stallion twitched his skin wherever a fly landed. The winged monsters avoided his ears for some reason, for which he was thankful.

As he grazed, he listened to the various background noises of the swamp. If he was to live here, he needed to learn what the place sounded like when it was peaceful so that he could quickly detect disturbances. The loudest noise was that of the river which flowed fast 'round the island. He made a mental note to check it out later - if it was brackish, as the taste of the grass led him to believe, then he would have to look for a spring or freshwater stream to water his future herd. The second loudest was that of the bugs, which seemed to be akin to birds in their duty of making lulling white noise. Before Conquistador could discern another sound, he heard the approach of some large animal. It was obvious from the splashings made that the stranger was coming from the river. Conquistador raised his head, forelock falling across the broad stretch of ivory that marked his skull. His eyes narrowed and his ears began to flatten. Was it already time to start defending his home from invaders?

His eyes landed on a mare coming through the band of cattails surrounding the island. She looked to be just a little shorter than he was, but her body, sheathed in a skin as dark as his own, was more developed, indicating that she was likely full-grown. Conquistador snorted softly, shaking his head.

"Hello, miss." he called, trying to sound like more of a grown stallion and less of a half-grown colt. His body remained in the same tensed-up posture as it has been seconds before; the fact that her reproductive organs were not akin to his own did not mean that he could let his guard down. "What brings you to my home?"