- Messages
- 333
- Character Biography
- Link
Rhi, the King of Horses, was dead.
Arnor stood silently, the funeral pyre building. He wiped away a tear, watching the flames lick away at his most constant companion. He stood there silently, watching the pyre build in intensity, the wood built around the giant of a horse, stacked some six feet high, began to reach the oils that had soaked it. Arnor held the torch that lit the fire, the village of Knottington having gathered for him, still appreciative of his defense of their town so many years later. Rhi was part of it.
Rhi was a monster of a horse, bigger than most horses that Arnor had run across. Additionally, he had a set of quirks- either his nose was unbothered by his scent, or the beast had a poor sense of smell. He was one of the few rare horses that did not mind the Nordenfiir, and let Arnor ride him.
Additionally, Rhi loved something more than grass and cool water. He loved beer, and lots of it. Partially due to the fault of Arnor, but he found that his horse was happier with a few tankards of mead after a long ride. The village had collected somewhat of a memorial, tributes and thanks. Rhi had taken Arnor from one end of the continent to the other, from deserts to mountains.
The Horse earned his rest.
He looked up at the night sky, then took the tankard of mead that one of the villagers brought him. Knottington was out in force, gathered around the pyre. The fishing village had thrown a great feast, and brought out all the stops-
Even a funeral, even the grief of the loss of such a marvelous creature, even during all that- they celebrated the life, with drink, with song, with music and lights. Arnor sat down on a nearby bench, watching the pyre eat away at his oldest friend. He took a deep breath, and took a swig.
It tasted good.
He was gonna miss Rhi.
He was a good horse.
