"Come little children I'll take thee away
into a land of enchantment
Come little children the time's come to play
here in my garden of shadows"
It was the song that blissfully had quieted the young ones. As the dying notes fell from her lips the singer was revealed yet again to a pair of watching eyes; eyes that were the color of fire. A dainty mare stood in stark contrast, bathed by the light of the full moon. Her foals rested peacefully, seemingly dreaming of pleasant things while their mother stood guard over them. Her eyes never ceased roaming the night, scanning the shadows in which any amount of danger could hide.
For many nights Saxon had been a silent observer to the nightly ritual that played out before his eyes. The foals would be exhausted from the day's frivolities of cavorting around the small clearing while their mother yelled at them to be careful. Hunger had clawed at the stallion's belly at one point when one of the foals had come too close to his hiding spot. Saxon had held his breath before the familiar screaming of the mare brought her wayward charge back to her.
Now was the perfect time to act. Out in the clearing the mare was dropping her guard. Her head was nodding as she fought the beginning dregs of slumber. Saxon stole out of his hiding spot and clenched his cleaver tightly. His mind quieted as he eased into a gentle canter. His approach was as quiet and as swift as he could make it given the situation. Nostrils flaring the stallion scented the area for any other strange scents and found none. It would seem as if his information was correct. The mare had been left alone to raise her children. Saxon's eyes closed briefly before his wings flared open. He was a diabolic specter in the night; just like the vision he'd seen once before as a foal Saxon had grown into something to be feared. His keen gaze locked on the mare as he gently draped a wing over her face, obstructing her view and waking her at the same time.
With a practiced move the stallion drew his cleaver lightly against the mare's neck, nicking the skin and drawing forth blood. Within minutes he knew that he had the mare just where he wanted her. Even with a stranger at her side she was too still with fright and something much more insidious. Having followed his mother for most of his foal hood Saxon had gleaned information on a much guarded secret that allowed his mother to take what she needed from donors. Saxon took his victim preference a step further. He sought out young, beautiful mares that were single mothers.
"Hush now, everything will be okay."
With an unconscious grace that belied his size Saxon dropped his cleaver to the ground and began to satiate his hunger. All too soon he was drawing away from the mare. He knew that she'd feel the effects of his illicit meeting for a few days; blood loss would do that to anyone. It was necessary to his survival that he feed though. Saxon picked up his cleaver and eyed the foals locked in their own little dreamland, unaware of the monster lurking before them. His voice crooned the last verse he'd heard the mare sing earlier into the air as he walked away with a lighter step.
"Follow sweet children I'll show thee the way
through all the pain and the sorrows
Weep not poor children for life is this way
murdering beauty and passions."
