A great pain shot through Ciaran's body, forcing the unconscious bull to awaken. With a groan he opened his blue eyes to see where he was. A small room with stone walls and a thatch roof greeted him. A thick, furry blanket covered him from his chest down to his feet, enveloping the young bull in a soothing warmth.
Slowly, Ciaran brought his lanky arms on top of the blanket, a slight chill spreading across his exposed, red fur. He sat up only for a sharp, throbbing pain to shoot through his head. A yelp escaped his lips and he clutched his horned head until the pain subsided. With his thoughts more coherent, he noticed white, bloodstained linen bandages wrapped tightly around his abdomen. A sudden pain exploded from the covered area as images of a spear plunging into his body flashed into his mind. They were soon followed by snarling, hate-filled humans armed with shields and spears charging towards him and his comrades.
Sweat drenched his lean body. He threw the blanket off of him and sat on the edge of the bed, panting rapidly. He wrapped his arms around his chest, sobbing and shaking knowing the warriors, his friends, were dead apart from him. When he ran out of tears to shed, Ciaran realized he wore only bandages. He searched around for his tunic but couldn't find it. A muffled thump came from behind the door. Curious to find out who or what was beyond it, he staggered to his feet, using the wall to support him.
Legs quivering and unable to stay upright, the sound of the door opening distracted him, causing him to fall. Ciaran braced himself when a pair of arms caught him. Stunned, the young bull stared up to see...