It Begins {CLOSED}

[.๑whovian๑.]

The sun scorched his back, and it felt like the sweat was pooling on his neck and shoulders. The tall, painted dark stallion was the only one who managed to keep his head up. As he should. The air seemed to be boiling, and visions of water quivered on the horizon. He looked up at the sun. It burned his eyes as he looked, and he tore his gaze away, looking out at the sands. It seemed as though the sands would never end. There was a hill, a tall dune, maybe twenty feet or so. The group of horses paused. Several of them groaned. All of them were breathing heavily. The painted stallion looked up at the top of the dune. He sighed heavily.
"Come on," he said.
"Come on?" asked a chestnut stallion standing next to him.
"Where? Don't you want to have a look, see where we're at?" the painted stallion asked. The chestnut snorted.
"Go for it, Shadowless," said the chestnut. Shadowless rolled his eyes.
"Whatever," he said. "Get them all settled, it's past the heat of the day, we'll settle here for the night, the dune should give us some shelter."

Shadowless turned and jogged up the sand dune. It was more work than he had anticipated. He had to canter, practically jumping up the sliding sand, and finally, he got to the top of the hill. The sun seemed to shine endlessly across the desert. He stared off into the distance, eyes narrowed. Come on. He thought desperately. He scanned the horizon, and then he spotted it. There they were, beautiful and green and tall and wonderful. He heard footsteps coming up behind him.

"Trees," came a voice. He looked around. A dark bay filly was standing next to him. She was tall for a two year old, merely a hand shorter than the painted stallion himself. She was also very beautiful, with a very white face, snowy white, and two front stockings. She was tall and elegant, but of course she was. She had her father's build and her mothers good looks.
"Trees," Shadowless repeated.
"Well done," the filly congratulated.
"Thanks," he said. They both stood there for some time, simply staring out at the treeline. Shadowless frowned.
"Lightfoot," he said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"What's that?"
"What?"
"That, over there, just along the treeline,"

The filly squinted out on the horizon, staring out at the trees. There was definitely movement. Her father looked at her a moment, then looked himself.
"I think..." she said quietly. "I think it's horses?" it sounded like she hardly believed herself.
"Horses?" he stared out at them. "What kind of horses?"
"Uh..." Lightfoot looked out at the treeline. "Lets get closer." She suggested. Her father nodded.
"Come on then," he said. The two of them cantered down the dune and towards the treeline.

It did not take long, and despite their long day, they both had a surprising amount of energy. They cantered swiftly towards the moving shapes in the trees, and slowed as they got closer. Shadowless narrowed his eyes and raked the treeline. Horses were moving in and out busily, and he would probably have not minded if not for the stench. He slowed to a walk and one of the horses stepped out of the trees. He was a tall palomino stallion, of a sturdy and sleek build, with striking green eyes. Lightfoot looked worried. They were in plain sight. The stallion was busily talking with a big Friesian when he spotted them. He smiled, and looked around at them.

"Hello there!" he said. "And who might you be?"
"My name is Shadowless," he said. He took a step back. Lightfoot followed suit.
"Good to know," the stallion grinned. "Well, that's different. I don't usually ask for the names of my victims. Well, I suppose there's a first for everything."

The pair did not need telling twice. Both of them only glanced at each other for a moment, and then spun on their heels and bolted.
"Well go on," said the palomino. "You three, kill them. And I'll get the others ready to attack their little group."
Three tall grey stallions nodded and took off after the two horses.

They caught up quickly, trailing the two of them, and Shadowless looked back. The horses were catching up, and to his horror, he watched as Lightfoot looked back.

"Don't stop!" he shouted. "Let them follow us back!"
"They'll have the element of surprise!" Lightfoot shouted in reply. With that, she slowed. Feigning weakness, she gasped, looking at the gaining stallion. Shadowless couldn't help the terrified look that appeared on his face. Lightfoot however, seemed to have a different grip on the situation. She grinned. With that, she shot up, and powered herself into an elegant arch, and shot her legs out with a buck. The force of the impact knocked the stallion in the chest, and he did a few somersaults. There was a loud snap; the fall had broken his back. The filly's hindquarters dropped, and her back legs skidded across the sand. She disappeared in a storm of sand.

Shadowless wasn't about to leave her on her own back there. He spun around mid stride, and charged the other stallion head on. He then performed a trick he had perfected over the last few years. He went into a slide, on his knees and slid right in front of the horse. The horse tripped over him, hitting him in the side, and flipped over, with a similar fatal crash. The strike hurt, but he was good at keeping his ribs intact.
"Good one dad!" shouted Lightfoot.
"Thanks darling!" he shouted back.

There was only one stallion left. He skidded to a halt, saw he was outnumbered, and immediately chickened, galloping back home. Lightfoot laughed a moment, and then they galloped up the hill. However, as they paused at the top, Shadowless spun around, and felt his heart stop.
"There's a sandstorm coming!" shouted a black stallion. He looked over. Wilth. Sure enough. A whirl of sand was racing towards them, and he could hear it thundering. His eyes widened, and he looked down at his band of thirty strong, fighting, and loyal horses. Panting, he looked back at the sandstorm. There was nothing for it. They couldn't run.
"IT'S NOT A SANDSTORM!" he bellowed. he raced down the hill. "It's an army!" he shouted. His band had been settling down, as the sun was starting to set, and it was getting colder.
"Prepare for battle!" he shouted. "We're under attack! Everyone, up to the dune and hold your positions until my command!"

In less than two minutes, he had his entire force up on top of the sand dune. The raging cloud was getting closer, and a gust of south wind revealed the hoard of horses. There was a good fifty of them, and he spotted the palomino somewhere up front. His horses fidgeted anxiously, rearing and plunging, tossing heads, snorting.

"Hold....!" he called. The charge of Cursed horses were approaching the base of the hill. Soon they would be climbing it. Shadowless stared, breathing heavily, waiting. The first horse touched the slope of the dune. Shadowless reared, and with a scream of fury and bloodlust, he launched himself forward.

"CHARGE!" his scream rented through the air, traveling far across the desert in the emptiness. There was a general uproar as his comrades too flew down the hill. There was a scream from the opposing side as well as they flew towards each other. Shadowless took one great stride, and then he jumped, flying towards his adversaries, as many of his companions did the same, and the battle began.

The crash of the two armies seemed to resonate through the air, and it shook the very Earth beneath their feet. The War of the Worlds, had begun.