won't you take your time on me; Tin Man

[The Tin Man]

Hearts will never be practical,
until they can be unbreakable.
(But I still want one.)

The Tin Man hadn't been this far north before--not having wings or other superpowers meant that his traveling was stuck at a normal twenty to sixty miles a day, and with the winter and the hills of Loess, that was usually cut in half.

Plus he was a little freaked out at how his winter coat hadn't grown an inch in the past three months. The Tin Man was still glossy black and speckled with white, despite the last of winter's ice still on the ground and the crunching frost under his hooves. He hadn't seen anyone older than the foals who were seriously affected by the seasons, either--most horses past one or two years old just seemed to wander around  without much problem.

Were they all not aging, or was everyone just frozen in time (so to speak) after eating the grass and drinking the water?

Oh look, a distraction from the freaky magic! He trotted over to the stallion by the river, trying to avoid the chill of the shallows.

"Hello!" He called. "I haven't seen you before. What's your name?"

The Tin Man