Chapter One (part 6)

As her paws hit the forest floor, they made a quiet thud. It was a comfortable rhythem. It was what she had run to before, the constant beat. This time she wasnt running away from everything she knew, causing injury to herself, she was simply running. Constantly moving was her plan. She would rest every couple hours or so, find food, find water, then run again. She just wanted to run forever, never stop moving. Because if she stopped moving she might be found, found and rejected.

Her breathing was even with the beat she was running to. Her heart didnt over-excelerate again. She managed to avoid getting a single cut, but it got trickier to do the farther she ran into the forest. She would occasionally slow to a light trot, but eventually pick it back up again to hear her peaceful rhythem again.

Her mind was clear, as clear as the cool air that flooded her lungs everytime she drew breath. Finally, she found the peace she was looking for. She found it in the speed and the never ending motion. As long as she ran she wouldnt need to think. And as long as she didn't think, she wouldnt see Dymetri's face or anyone elses ever again.

The air flowed past her, along her sides, into her lungs. It felt like she was flying, flying in a dream...

***

Dymetri slumped in Atnela's saddle once he was in the cover off the thick canopy of leaves. He let his anger, pain, and every other emoton roll off his skin in waves. He paid no attention to the bow at his back, or the quiver of arrows by his thy. Nor did he pay thought to the saddle bag full of food, and drink his mother insisted he take.

The elvin prince sighed as he felt Atnela dance delecatly beneith him, feeling his distress. He patted her neck.

"Sorry girl. I...I just dont know what to do..." He trailed off.

Atnela turned her head to eye him quizically. She was practically a mother too him, more strict and demanding than his own Elf mother. She snorted and tossed her head, causing his anger to boil up again.

"Dont you dare think me pathetic!" He hissed angrily. "She is the one who left with no apparent reason. Now walk." She constantly would keep him on his toes. She wanted him to be in control all times, being the king he would soon be. But also she wanted to have things her way. It was disconcerning most times, and she was highly unpredictable for it. The only reason she wasn't slaughtered as a young foal was because Dymetri had forbidden it. He was barely bigger than the size of a five year old human though a good hundred years old realistically. He was the cutes kid any of them had ever seen, but boy would they pay hell if they ever did anything to piss him off. He had a temper to scare the most dangerous of demons. It was the reason his mother said he would never end up in hell.

Atnela also wasnt a normal horse. She was slightly younger than the eight hundred year old elf who rode her. She was a good seven hundred and twenty winters old. They could never calculate how long she would live exactly, they had never found another like her either. The strangest thing of all is that she moved, acted, and looked no more than a normal horses 8 winters old.

Dymetri was the only one who could ride her. Whenever someone else would approach her, wanting to ride, she would walk calmly up to them but never stop in front of the person. She would continue on, either shoving back the wanting rider or causing him to back up on his own until he was a couple feet outside the barns, then she would whinny as she kicked the door shut.

If anyone did ever manage to get on her back, she would obay enough to be walked into the feild, but then change direction, still walking, towards the forest. Dymetri waited an hour the first time she did this. He waited for her return. What he was not expecting, was her to be riderless. They never saw that stable boy again.

Dymetri snorted at his memories of his beloved horse. Many were hilarious, but others were down right scary. Like the time when the last forest they lived by had caught fire. In human years the elf was around 11 years old. Still a child and still easily hurt. Atnela had run them past every burning tree, many times blockaded by a fallen tree that was being eaten by the gold flames. It was a very scary time for the young prince. No one else could be found and all he knew how to do was cling to his horses life and hope she get them both through the nightmare. They did get out alive, but both close to death. Hair, clothes, and skin were charred, blackened and burned. And many shiny burns were in place of the beautiful black fur of Atnela's hide.

Dymetri slipped out of his memories with a shiver. Atnela had stopped, listening for something.

"What is it?" The elf whispered as he also narrowed in on the sound. It was the steady rhythem of paws pounding a path into the earth. It was running in the opposite direction of them, straight for the heart.

Dymetri urged Atnela forward cautiously. He was headed to the heart's meadow anyway, might as well see what was running that way.