Thorvald’s Wyrd 009
A fire burst in the one-eyed man’s belly and his knees clenched of their own accord. The great steed beneath him took the action as a demand for more speed. It leapt ahead of the Hunt, legs churning so hard and so fast an observer could not have witnessed only four.
One-Eye heard several horses behind him chuff, felt them surge forward, hoof beats muffled just a little less by the snow. A glimpse over his shoulder showed the horn rising again to his son’s lips and three long notes shot through the storm’s dregs.
Their quarry lay close now.