11-10-2019, 01:01 PM
He had been grazing, solitary as usual. There was no herd for the midnight stallion, no family group to guide him. That wasn't to say that they wouldn't, if he let them. His sisters would welcome him the island of he chose to return there. For them it was freedom, a convenient berthing for his aquatic siblings. But it was a claustrophobic cage for the stallion who had grown so accustomed to roaming the wider world, and could not join his sisters beneath the waves.
There was no jealousy there, though he could have easily felt it. It seemed easier to simply see it as the pattern of their family. Mother, the girls, they had saltwater in their veins. And while his father also had adapted to the marine lifestyle, it seemed borne of his love for his mate as much as anything biological. The elder stallion had been as earthbound as his son in his youth.
So the midnight stallion lingered in the open lands, slept through the days when he might attract attention he didn't want, and spent his nights camouflaged by darkness. It was safer that way, when danger was a thing he could not see. He could hear when others approached, knew the scents and tastes of plants that would make him ill. It was other horses he couldn't predict, and couldn't escape very easily if they did mean him harm. Best to avoid others when ever he could.
He was minding his own business tonight, feeling for mouthfuls of brittle grass to quiet his grumbling stomach, when a shuffling, stumbling almost colliding presence arrived. Tyr raised his head in surprise, snorted and stepped back a pace in case the noise hadn't realized he was there yet. A noise that rustled somewhere near his chest. The near-black cups of his ears twisted every which way, trying to gather as much information as they could about the... Rabbit? Maybe it was a big rabbit. An apologetic one.
No, that wasn't right. Rabbits didn't run towards horses, and they definitely didn't apologize if they did. He blinked beneath the curtain of his forelock uncertainly, smiling vaguely in the general direction of... Aedan? Whatever Aedan was. "No harm done..." He assured, shifting his feet uncertainly. The instinct to run was always there in the back of his mind, ready to engage at the first sign of trouble. So far though, this little voice in the darkness seemed harmless enough.
"Tyr," he replied, giving his name in exchange for the new comer's. "Sorry but," he sighed, a bit frustrated. "Where are you? And what...?" It was so awkward to try and speak to another when he didn't know which way to face.
@[Aedan]
There was no jealousy there, though he could have easily felt it. It seemed easier to simply see it as the pattern of their family. Mother, the girls, they had saltwater in their veins. And while his father also had adapted to the marine lifestyle, it seemed borne of his love for his mate as much as anything biological. The elder stallion had been as earthbound as his son in his youth.
So the midnight stallion lingered in the open lands, slept through the days when he might attract attention he didn't want, and spent his nights camouflaged by darkness. It was safer that way, when danger was a thing he could not see. He could hear when others approached, knew the scents and tastes of plants that would make him ill. It was other horses he couldn't predict, and couldn't escape very easily if they did mean him harm. Best to avoid others when ever he could.
He was minding his own business tonight, feeling for mouthfuls of brittle grass to quiet his grumbling stomach, when a shuffling, stumbling almost colliding presence arrived. Tyr raised his head in surprise, snorted and stepped back a pace in case the noise hadn't realized he was there yet. A noise that rustled somewhere near his chest. The near-black cups of his ears twisted every which way, trying to gather as much information as they could about the... Rabbit? Maybe it was a big rabbit. An apologetic one.
No, that wasn't right. Rabbits didn't run towards horses, and they definitely didn't apologize if they did. He blinked beneath the curtain of his forelock uncertainly, smiling vaguely in the general direction of... Aedan? Whatever Aedan was. "No harm done..." He assured, shifting his feet uncertainly. The instinct to run was always there in the back of his mind, ready to engage at the first sign of trouble. So far though, this little voice in the darkness seemed harmless enough.
"Tyr," he replied, giving his name in exchange for the new comer's. "Sorry but," he sighed, a bit frustrated. "Where are you? And what...?" It was so awkward to try and speak to another when he didn't know which way to face.
@[Aedan]