HOCKETY, POCKETY, WOCKETY, WACK
Winter air curled around the roan’s limbs, stroking callous fingers across his hide. A winter coat only offered so much protection, and the bitter winds dipped into his growing cover with fervor. Winter would not pass soon enough this year, not soon enough at all. Weir was counting the days, ticking them off in his head as they passed. Come spring, come the birds and the blooms, he would have a child of his very own. Well, he would have to share probably.
Speaking of sharing, he had not seen the child’s Dam for some time now, her dark pelt absent against the fresh snow. He had taken to looking though, crawling over the expanse of the Kingdom, giving brief calls across the meadows. His amber eyes were alert, he checked the common spots three times over, but found nothing.
It went without saying that he was surprised, spotting her lightless form near the river today. Her silhouette creating smooth, fine lines against the stark backdrop. He blinked, confused but started towards her regardless. His hooves shuffled against the loose flurries, kicking them up and creating deep track marks as he went. ”Iset, I have been looking all over..” His sentence cut short, as her dark dial rose from the waters, moisture pooling at the corners of her eyes.
He took a quick look to notice just how thin she was, and how out-of-place that fact is. He steeled himself for bad news, surely there would be bad news. ”Iset?..Is everything all right?” His insides were screaming, clawing at the cage constricting his heart. The beating organ threatening to burst from his chest as he waited, he didn’t even noticed that he was holding his breath.