Chobo
Flash Fiction about Kulianna
Writing prompt: Ride like the wind. Note: I know very little about horses, so I would have to do a lot of research before editing this into a publishable piece, but this particular horse will reappear with Kulianna in my next book, Bloodied Flower.
The horse was too slow. It would never make the cut like this. “Go faster, you big, dumb—” she started, but then was thrown off as the horse reared and threw her off its back.
“My lady, are you okay?”
Kulianna rolled her eyes. “Yes, Iracom, I’m fine, as always. But that horse is no good. I need a faster one.”
“There aren’t any faster horses, milady,” the stablehand said.
Iracom frowned. “Are you sure? I’ve heard there’s a new mare you’re breaking.”
“Breaking, yes, as in that’s still ongoing. The horse is not ready for—”
“Bring it out,” Kulianna demanded.
The stablehand shook his head, but obeyed. He was soon back, struggling with a chestnut colored horse that did not want to follow him. He was goading it with an apple, and even then, it didn’t want to cooperate.
Kulianna approached it and snatched the apple out of the stablehand’s grip. Then she crushed the fruit in her palm. The horse stared at her. She stepped to the side to get a better look at one of its eyes. It was sizing her up. She was small, only six years old, and the beast craved violence.
“Let go of the reins,” Kulianna instructed. He tried to hand the rope to her, but she said again, “Let go.”
“But—”
“Do it.”
The moment the reins were loose, the horse charged. She stepped to the side, and it whirled to stomp on her. She jumped back, grinning. This bloodlust was unusual in a horse. Perhaps it had sired a foul that had been taken from it. Did mares even care about that sort of thing?
After a few more dodges, she leapt into the air and landed on its back. It was surprised, of course—a child her size should not be able to do that. She was no ordinary child. The horse began to run. Already, it was faster than the last horse she’d ridden. She kicked with her spur, and it got faster still. It was heading straight for the wall. Was it blind?
No, not the wall, she realized. It was heading straight for a window. But even if it could reach that height, the glass would injure it. It was smart, but it was also desperate.
Kulianna launched herself forward to fly in front of the horse, striking the wall and bouncing off. The horse skidded to a halt, and before it could even register that the creature in front of it was a mere child, she dashed to its side, putting a hand on its neck. She slowed her heartbeat and sensed the horse’s pulse slowing as well.
“This horse is different than the others,” Kulianna said. “I’ll take it.”
“But it still needs to be broken—”
“No, I want it wild. I’ll teach it to listen to me and no one else. And I’ll name it Chobo.”
Do you like horse stories? Was I too cliche here, or was it a fun callback to other stories you’ve read? Did you catch the Final Fantasy reference hidden at the end? (Chobo came from chocobo.) Let me know!