He is a curious lad. Bright and nosy in the way that young boys often are. He can often be found venturing the acres of his home, nosing into hidden corners and frolicking amongst the steamy, green foliage. He wanders from his mother's side more and more each day, going farther and farther afield with each passing step.
Today he is exploring the base of the volcano. He grows bored so easily and is constantly looking for new ways in which to entertain himself. In this case, as in many others, it is discovering the extents of his ability to command snow and ice.
It is odd, a boy born in a land of eternal warmth and humidity to have such an affinity for cold. But there it is. He will just have to be an odd one.
He has found a small stream of lava with which to experiment though. One fetlock shows the evidence of previous attempts. A healing pink scar shows up bright and condemning amidst the white hairs of his fetlock. But he had learned his lesson.
Still, he is perhaps too brave for his own good. Short, fluffy red tail wagging in the way that young foals often do, he splays his legs a bit so that he might reach his nose a bit closer to the slowly flowing stream of red and black. He stands back a bit, so he must stretch his neck awkwardly until he comes close enough that the heat nearly sears the whiskers of his small muzzle.
Snorting, he jerks his head up abruptly before a small flurry of snow settles over the lava. It sizzles and melts, hissing and spitting at him in angry consternation, but he perseveres. Soon it is black rock, cracked and curled into odd formations. With a smile, he bends to test once more. It is warm still, but no longer hot enough to scald from a distance.
With a laugh, he prances a little jig, proudly eyeing his most recent creation.
