Our prompt from Julia this week is “… the white horses were galloping …” Join the fun at this link:
Sebastian stood on the cliff and watched the white horses galloping away. His breath caught, and he blinked the salty mist from his eyes. Three generations — bred and born in his own stables. All issued from the grandfather of the line, Royal Alabaster. Sold only to clients who valued their animals as they did people and would provide them with only the noblest environment.
“How can you bear to let them go?” asked his wife, gripping his hand tightly.
“I will not allow those invading barbarians to even mount these glorious animals!” he replied, shadowing his eyes to watch the last two stallions safely out of sight.