The Army of the Undead

Damone continued to run, and the rest of the herd to retreat, but not the white stallion. More nervous than ever, still it would not retreat. It stood its ground stoically as the span between them closed. As it continued to close. And then he was only lengths from the prancing stallion and Damone came to a halt.

Then he took a step, hardly daring to breathe. Then another. Then another, and he was able to put out his hand and rest it on the animal's flank. The flesh shivered under his hand, but then calmed, and the white stallion turned and looked Damone in the eye. There seemed to be a flash of understanding between them, and Damone was on its back, one fluid movement.