Alec turned around in surprise at the sound of pounding hooves. Six strong looking mares and stallions skidded to a halt not five feet away from him.The boystudied the small band.
There was a dapple-grey mare, a young light-bay colt, a pure white mare, a perfect looking palomino stallion, an odd looking blue-roan mare, and a savage looking stallion with a coat as dark as the Black's was obviously the leader. In his mind, Alec named the dapple-grey Slate, the light-bay Sham after the horse in King of the Wind, the white mare Frost, the palomino Sundew, the blue-roan Random, (Alec couldn't think of a name that suited his color) and the breath taking midnight colored stallion before him he named Shetan. (The name had suddenly popped into his head, and he thought it fit the black stallion very well.)
Shetan prowled forward, then danced backwards, his inflamed nostrils quivering. Slate nipped and nudged the rest of the sized band into a straight line while Shetan danced. Slate whinnied, and Shetan stopped.
The Black screamed, rising into the air. Alec dodged out of the way, fear filling his mind. He made a hasty decision. As soon as the Black's hooves hit the ground, Alec bounded up onto his stallion's back.
As soon as the Black felt the boy upon his back, he quieted. He screamed again at the black devil before him. Something was oddly familiar, and the Black sniffed the air, trying to catch the stallion's scent.
There! He had it! Now he knew why the stallion was familiar- it was his own offspring! (Satan) He snorted in anger and astonishment. Pawing, he took a wary step forward- only to be backed up three steps by the boy upon his back.
Satan pranced to sideways undecidedly, then bounded forward at the Black, teeth bared. He missed the Black's neck by mere inches. Satan soon found out that his fierce opponent was much quicker and more agile on his hooves than he. Satan backed away, bleeding in several places from the more experienced stallion's blows.
The Black screamed, furious at the black colt he had dared thought of as a stallion. He ignored the boy's silent commands and jumped at the colt, scattering his band's line. His mouth flashed open, and the Black lunged for the devil's throat. He felt some skin against his teeth.
Satan lay on the ground, soft moans and groans escaping his dying body from time to time. The Black stood over his son, head raised in triumph. He whistled, turning to Satan's previous band. The horses stood huddled together, not knowing what to expect. At the Black's whistle, they came forward timidly, each one touching noses with the Black.
After all the horses had met, they turned on their heels and raced off in the opposite direction of the marsh. Behind them, Satan's last, dying breath escaped his slim muzzle, and his powerful, sleek body went limp and cold.
The Son of the Black Stallion was gone- killed by his own sire.