This short story is for Sonya’s photo prompt. It ties in well with the block buster Norse-type saga I’m just polishing up.
photo by Patrick Wittke via Unsplash
When the little girl had filled the mangers in the cow barn, she ran outside to look at the horses in the field behind the longhouse, especially the stocky, sturdy pony with a sprinkling of snow on his chestnut coat.
She felt a pang, as she always did, that the pony had to be outside in the snow while the cows were warm in the barn, and would have liked to bring him in, just for a while, but if she’d said as much, her father would have shrugged and reminded her it would soon be Yule.
She couldn’t know, but the stirrings of compassion when she looked into the gentle eyes of the little horse, were the same as a child might feel a thousand years hence, if she were to look into the eyes of what was to be the meat supply for the festive season.