SCA: Radish Tops
A ten-year-old Sanna tries to bring her favorite broadwing a snack, but she encounters Semrah: the herd stallion
Sanna’s red hair swished as she scanned the rolling, boulder-studded meadow. She slipped through the rough wooden fence that outlined the pegasus pasture. It was true that the fence wouldn’t necessarily do much to keep the adult pegasi in, but it was effective in keeping predators out for the sake of the flightless foals. Sanna imagined she looked something like a bush cat sneaking through the grass.
Boulder to boulder, around the few scattered trees, rise to rise she weaved her way across the pasture. Sanna saw little foals only a few months old frolicking and rough-housing. Their mothers kept a watchful eye on them, and at least one ear on Sanna. But the mares didn’t concern her. She was looking for a specific foal: a little red dun with white rear socks. Among the rather drab browns and creams of the mares he should be easy to spot. At only 8 months, he was gangly and awkward looking, but Sanna didn’t care. She felt that way too. Besides, she thought he had a cute face, and he had the sweetest temperament; always gentle and eager to please. She had taken to calling him Kin, and spent time with him whenever she could. She often saved treats for him like the radish tops in her hands. Holli tended to scold her for the treats, but did allow Sanna to be with him. Holli was even using him to teach Sanna how to work with young pegasi. She was pleased when Sanna proved to be confident with them. Sanna was rarely afraid of them, but there was one….
She ducked behind a boulder as a tall pegasus strode into view. White eyes with narrow pupils flashed like lightning as they shifted side to side, patrolling the pasture. Sanna’s blood ran cold. Semrah: her mother’s broadwing. Apparently he was a dream in the air, but on the ground, he was downright mean to anyone other than Holli. Most of him was the darkest black Sanna had ever seen. Only his shoulders, hip and upper legs faded to a steele grey. His wings, mane, and tail: all black, like angry storm clouds. Sanna shuddered and started to creep away, her eyes glued to the black beast.
Her feet crunched on gravel. Semrah snorted and wheeled around to face the noise, his ears pricked forward, head high, nostrils flared in the breeze...those terrible eyes scanning the horizon. They fell upon Sanna and she froze. Impossibly long moments passed as the two stared each other down in a bid for who might win. Finally Semrah’s ears swiveled to lay flat against his neck and he took a purposeful step toward Sanna. It was decided.
“I’m going to die,” she muttered before spinning and dashing for the nearest tree. She ran like hell, scrambling over rough patches, desperate for the safety of a large pine nearby before Semrah’s cruel curved beak met her skin.
Thunder filled her ears as Semrah bore down upon her. As she leapt for the first branches, she could feel Semrah’s breath on her heels as he lunged into the air to snap at her. Sanna clawed herself up to safety before turning to look. Semrah’s mouth was open, his ears flattened, wings raised, and eyes wide as he circled the tree.
Sanna slumped back against the trunk, gasping for breath. She was safe here in the branches, even if Semrah took to the wing...but Kin wouldn’t be getting those radish tops any time soon.
Fin