It was there, wrapped in that thick, coarse, coyote-skin blanket that he had been brought into the world some twenty-odd years ago. And it was there, wrapped in that very same blanket did he lie in bed, adrift betwixt the realms of the living and oblivion. There, where he allowed the nostalgic warmth and comfort that such a tattered piece of cloth could offer him to pull him into such a trance-like state, recalling the stories of days old, told to him by his aged, but wise father.

And it was there that he found that there was a horse sleeping next to him.

Huh. Well that certainly won't become an issue, now will it?


A not-entirely-serious collaboration fic written by yours truly, The Almighty Lord Siffer, and Crushric of Orléans.

("Sex" tag for occasional sexual humor.)

Feedback is greatly appreciated.