Perhaps he should not be startled by her enthusiasm, after all his own chest thrums with the thrill, but he is momentarily at a loss when Adna tags him and is just a quickly gone, already racing across the field. The copper boy scrambles to catch up, the gently cushioned ground underneath his hooves quite strange. Adna longs for a harder ground to push against, but Maertin is used to sandy soil, loose under his feet, and he is momentarily distracted by the way the ground here does not give as easily as the shores of home. Still, he is almost caught up when the branch looms ahead of them. Maertin shies at the last moment, stumbling to a stop and catching up against the tree from which the branch had fallen.
His amber eyes are wide as he watches her leap through the air, fearless, but he is uncertain. The colt is a strong swimmer with an affinity for water, but he spends precious little time pushes his physical boundaries, preferring to baffle his family with songs and riddles and mind-games, playing only innocent and unchallenging games with his compatriots in Ischia. Still, he is Brennen’s son and competition runs in his blood; the filly is drawing away with ever scattered heartbeat. Maertin steels his nerves and trots a circle around the big oak before picking up a canter and heading for the branch, closing his eyes at the last moment even as he makes the jump, easily clearing the distance and huffing out a relieved breath when he lands.
Putting on a stubborn burst of speed, he mostly catches up and strains forward, stretching his nose to try and tag her rump. “Gotcha!” he exclaims proudly a moment later and throws on the brakes, hoping to change directions and get a head start on his escape.
Maertin
this would be a great place for a quote
@[adna]
Qaen & Maertin (twins)