Stupor

Suddenly the sun disappeared behind a cloud and shadows penetrated the trees. The undergrowth rustled and the white horses became restless. All pairs of ears were focused on the noise in order to investigate its cause. It rustled again, and a loud snort came from the same direction. The bushes parted and a peculiar red horse broke out of it, head drooping. At the touch of the horse, the leaves of the bushes immediately began to wither. And even where his hooves met the ground, the fresh green gave way to withered brown. The white horses tossed their heads up and neighed excitedly when the red horse came up to them. Yes, it really was a strange red for a horse, something like that of crushed raspberries. And there seemed to be something wrong with the fur, it was strangely damp. Drops of red fell from mane and tail. It had to be color. But who painted a horse red? The horse lowered its head again and shook itself. Small droplets flew through the forest, hit fern leaves, tree bark and