When you came in the air went out

[Texas]

and I discovered that my castles stand

upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

The Adoption Den is a little farther south than Texas usually ventures, but since it’s about the right season for tired mothers to dump their children the bay stallion makes his way down the shaded trail as twilight begins to descend on Beqanna. With any luck the place will be empty and he’ll be able to say he tried and found nothing. That should get him a pat on the head, shouldn’t it? It’s a pity there’s no one actually around to do the patting.

Snorting irritably at a firefly that lights up a bit too close to his left eyes, Texas pauses on the edge of the open field. It appears, for the most part, to be abandoned. Perhaps all the women knocked up last fall had been the responsible sort, but Texas doubts it. His suspicions are confirmed when he hears a bit of rustling in a bush nearby. He’s arrived too late to hear the boy cry out for his mother, but there’s only one thing that brings foals to the Adoption Den.

It’s been quite a while since Texas was here himself, but the purpose of the place hasn’t changed much.

He meanders over to the shaking bush and lowers his dark head to peer through the brambles. “Hey kid,” he says, his baritone voice low and drawling, “What’s your name?”

texas